Trip the Light Fantastic
by gothangelic
Summary: Chapter 30: Smoke and Mirrors :: 200 years after two worlds merge, Jareth finds strange beasts in the Southern Goblin Territory, and bites off more than he can chew when goes to investigate. Jareth/Sarah
1. Prologue

All standard disclaimers apply. I make no promises, save for Valentine Evenings.

Original Posting: 30 Jun 2009

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The boy dropped the newly slaughtered goat as he stepped into the base from the brisk wind outside. Three figures waited inside for him, eyes glistening in the dusky light. The figures grinned and, stepping toward the boy, they grabbed hold of the animal. Between the three of them, they hauled it away down a short staircase. They looked like young boys, appearing to be maybe eight or nine years old. If one looked closely, they would see that the boys had ears that angled up to points, and eyeteeth with more of a point on them than usual. Their eyes glinted with a light not reflected as they hauled supper down to the kitchens.

He smiled. It was good to see the boys in high spirits once more. This winter had been a long one, but spring was finally breaking. Even in what used to be south-eastern Kentucky, winters were chilly.

In those first years after the merge, the boys had lived as wild children, stealing and scrapping until the worlds adjusted to each other. Food had been scarce for what seemed like forever to them before the Lady had scooped them up and fed them from her indoor gardens. She taught them as she knew, and learned from them in kind. They were a family and had been so for more than seventy years now. The Lady and her brother had known this place, so she told them, for a hundred years before that. The remaining cities had initially cast them out because she appeared as a newcomer, though she had grown up as human. At the time of the merging, something had changed in them, altering appearances, and changing their lives.

A full quarter of the Earth's population had been destroyed when two worlds, one fantastical and one mundane, collided and merged. Over time, cities had been rebuilt, governments destroyed and reformed. The renewed magics of the Earth, herself, had changed her surviving populous, and most surviving humans had acquired basic magic. The average lifespan was currently over a hundred years for a human. Only the Lady, her brother, and the trio of boys seemed to be the human exception. They hadn't appeared to age after the initial merge, leaving the Lady looking in her early twenties, her brother in his late teens, and the trio as young boys, even nearly two hundred years after the merge.

He went off in search of the Lady, who was undoubtedly working on the military base turned home base's fried technology. He found her upside-down, elbow-deep in wires underneath a satellite console in the control center, her left cheek smudged with viscous amber electronic grease, and a solder gun smoking merrily an arm's length away.

"Hey," she greeted, having heard him open the doors. "How's supper coming? I was famished an hour ago."

"I just brought in a goat. The boys are carving and cooking as we speak." He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms, and chuckled. "How's it coming?"

"I'm not quite sure. Even if we can't use the satellites, we'll have base surveillance and radio communication. I'm still hoping the satellites come through eventually, though." She extricated and righted herself, wiping her smoky hands on a rag that she grabbed from the back of an upended chair. Her Carribean-sea eyes sparkled in the low light, and she smiled at her brother. "Were you in town today?"

"Yeah," he smiled, looking down at his feet, only slightly abashed. The Lady grinned.

"How's your lady?"

"She sends her regards," he replied with a grin. "Come on, I'll help you put this beast back together, then we'll clean up for supper. I'm sure you'll be up here for the rest of the night making sweet, sweet music with your toys."

"I am not in love with my machines," she laughed. "Thanks, Toby."

"You're welcome, Sarah."


	2. Chapter 1 The King

All standard disclaimers apply.

Original Posting: 6 July 2009 - minor tweaks 18 August 2010

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The magical races had not escaped unscathed from the merge either, but they had been better equipped to handle it. While they did not perish as a good portion of their mundane counterparts may have, the above world of steel and electric did not treat them kindly. The more well read of the dissenting human populous realized what these strange creatures were, and attacked with weapons of iron, hoping to destroy those that were perceived to be a threat to the remaining humans and their dessicated societies. The gifted humans could destroy them when the weapons were charged with magic. But when the former residents of the Underground were pierced by the iron in attempts to eradicate them, they found that they could often heal even these wounds.

The Fae were initially blamed for the merge, but it was no fault of theirs; not really. A rift, created millennia ago by the Ancients, Fae as old as the stones and water and sky, had started to be mended when a girl and her brother were sent home bearing the gifts that the King had afforded them. Their time in the Labyrinth had changed them, as it did all its visitors, and winning it had made those gifts permanent.

The King in question leaned languidly back into the curl of his throne, staring down a goblin who seemed intent to ramble on incessantly, and tapped his riding crop against his boot. Better to have a crop than a scepter, he thought. A crop was easier to hit things with, and goblins could be ridiculously fast when sober. He hoped the one in front of him was sober; he needed a challenge to alleviate his boredom.

The goblin that was speaking didn't notice the King's internal irritation. The goblin that he was listening to was the Steward appointed to him by the European National Council; a gnarled green thing with the pockmarked ears of a bat, knobbly little knees, a torso much too long for itself, and long, spindly fingers that wrapped around and around each hand neurotically. Jareth watched as the strange little beastie's right eye twitch as he rattled off the day's problems. Granted, it was a much shorter list than it used to be. Most of the complaints used to be from the human population, but even those were dying down. They were realizing, finally, that oversight from the Councils was less invasive than their previous governance.

"Prattle," Jareth said, interrupting the tall (for a goblin) goblin.

"Yes, Sire?" he rasped, looking thrown. The King never spoke to his Steward when he was giving the report. Usually, there was no outward indication that he was even listening; no twitch of the face, no tightening of the jaw, nor roll of the eyes.

"Is there anything of note that I need to know? It's been an exceedingly long week," Jareth said, staring at the empty space between his fingers before he conjured a crystal in his gloved hand. He set his crop behind him, and stared into the crystal.

"Well, there are the beginnings of goblin uprising in the Southern Goblin Kingdom," Prattle started nervously. Jareth stared harder into his crystal.

"It's going to be solved by sending resources their way. The complaints in the south stem primarily from the long winter, and last year's small crop yields in that region. Small crops drove the food price up. Send Green Thumb Goblins to work with their farmers, and the crops will yield early this season. I'll talk with their Regional Council and work out additional deliveries of foodstuffs and necessities to help them out in the mean time." The King sat forward in his throne, hands on the arms, leaning in close to Prattle. He shrank beneath Jareth's shadow. "Now," he said quietly, narrowing his gaze. "Was there anything else?"

"The only other thing on the immediate agenda - and it's not a priority - is that there have been as-of-yet-unconfirmed reports of a strange animal in the south as well, Sire. It's still Goblin Kingdom territory, so I thought to send some scouts down to check the area. The only thing that they came back with was a half-baked report of this creature of their own. They were not able to capture it, nor get a graph of it. The locals won't go out at dusk for fear of this thing, and storms always seems to follow the creature. The locals are starting to refer to the beast as a Rainbringer."

"What does the creature look like, Prattle?"

"The reports conflict, Sire. I don't have good information to give you, because nothing's been confirmed yet."

"Prattle! What does the beast look like?" he asked, enunciating each word, very nearly growling. This wasn't like his steward, trying to gloss problems over. Something at the back of his mind itched when Prattle mentioned this beast, and he wanted to know more. The goblin was shaking, its knobby knees very nearly knocking into each other.

"Black sand!" Prattle howled suddenly, looking terrified. "The beast moves like black sand and moonlight, and cries like thunder. Some say that it's earthbound, others say it flies. When it's on the ground, it resembles a featureless wolf or big cat, and when it's airborne, it burns like a phoenix." The goblin trembled as he spoke, fearing the King's wrath if he were proven to be incorrect in his words. "The goblins who submitted the report-"

"Wait, goblins gave the report?" The King was suddenly more alert than he'd felt in years. Something wasn't right with this thing, this beast of sand and light.

"Yes, Sire. It was goblins who gave the initial report as well."

"They're not creative enough to come up with a chimera of this nature. Have humans seen this thing as well?"

"Only the very gifted humans have seen the creature, but everyone in the Southern Lands can hear it when it cries." Jareth sat back, watching Prattle for any signs of dishonesty. There were none. Prattle, for better or worse, was telling the truth. He just hoped that it was within his power to stifle this creature if it meant harm to his lands.

Jareth sat back again in his throne, tapping his crop against his boot again. He had heard myths of such a fantastic creature, but none of those tales had mentioned any of its possible significance. Those stories had been lost to the ages, and he wasn't going to be the one to disturb the elders' slumber to force it from them. He stood up suddenly, turning to Prattle. "I'm taking the week, Steward. Lock down the castle, and I'll handle whatever arises when I return. I'm heading to the Southern Lands to find this beast," he said with a finality that only a king or an executioner could direct.

"Sire, are you sure that's wise?" Prattle's eyes looked huge in the fairylight, and his hands wound around themselves. He hadn't, apparently, heard that finality. The King had never done something like this in all the years Prattle had been in his service.

"I'm sure you'll wake me at the bleeding splinter of dawn the day I return to inform me that my subjects have been holding illegal chicken drag races or some other such nonsense."

"Let me at least arrange a detail of men to accompany you. It could be dangerous, Sire," he reasoned. Jareth leveled a glare at his Steward, watching him shrink into a cower. "Nevermind, Sire. I will eagerly await your return." Prattle scampered off to worry himself into indigestion at the King's strange behavior.

Jareth sighed, watching Prattle leave, and feeling his many, many years this night. He took a deep breath, and let his owl form take him over. Fluffing his breast out, he spread his wings and took flight, heading out over his domain and into the late afternoon. He dipped low, floating through commons and down streets, gliding through the Goblin City. Goblins young and old smiled and pointed, laughing as they saw the king pass by. It was a sight to behold, one that had not been seen by his beloved subjects for many years now. It had been too long since he had surveyed his lands by wing, but that was not his reason for the flight this evening, nor was the plight of the Southern Lands, nor the strange beast reported in that area. Out over the wilds of the goblin kingdom, the half moon was coming up, providing a beacon. He flew vaguely south for hours, aimlessly circling and soaring, not caring where precisely he ended up come daybreak.

This night was the anniversary of the day the worlds merged and destroyed so much, but ended up creating so much more. Who could have known that this was how things would end up, this new, united world? The day the worlds merged, he had lost himself. Tonight was the anniversary of the day that he'd lost his chance at happiness. Since that day nearly two hundred years ago, he'd been living as a mere shadow of the great ruler he once felt he was, a shell of a man who once held the worlds in the palm of his gloved hand. The day the worlds merged, he watched as the car Sarah and her family was in crushed by an out-of-control tanker, then immolated in a fire of which he had nightmares to this very day while he watched, helpless, through a conjured crystal.

No matter how hard he tried, how hard he flew, he couldn't empty his mind. Sarah's face before her death always swam to the forefront from the mire; it wasn't an easy thing to remember. Upon impact, a bar from the truck burst through the windshield and pierced Sarah through the chest, continuing through the rest of the car. Her eyes had widened in shock, seeming to catch his eyes through the crystal, even though she shouldn't have been able to. How unfair it was, he thought with a mental grimace, that fate would be so cruel as to let a soul live on while its mate had gone so long ago.

The indignity of having fallen in love and subsequently spurned by a mortal millennia after having given up on women of his own race burned like acid. Witnessing that love ripped apart in front of his very eyes, knowing that he was facing eternity with a piece of himself missing, had broken him. The laws of magic that he was governed by prevented him from transporting himself to her side to burn alongside her and her family. The feeling of isolation he was left with was like being run through along with Sarah, even after all these years. He often felt a strange creature twisting in his soul when he thought of her.

To this day, on the very spot that she had died, the twisted, rusted steel frame remained. The surrounding area, formerly asphalt, had surrendered to his will and tears and was now blanketed with a permanent coat of baby's breath. Within the gaping, shorn metal, a red orchid frozen in bloom looked on as a testament to a King's broken heart.

Some days were better than others, but in those first years, the Courtiers whispered amongst one another that the Goblin King had lost his mind and speculated as to why. He never spoke of Sarah to the Courts, not even to his own parents on the High Council, but his subjects, the denizens of the Goblin Kingdom, knew that the King was mad with grief. The knight, the dwarf, and the rock caller had found this place of mourning years later, and Jareth's heart froze a little more remembering their wailing grief. They dragged on through their lives to this day, knowing each day was a little grayer without Sarah's burst of life to brighten them.

Jareth, however, threw all of his resources into the ruling and taming of this new world and had succeeded admirably. His station demanded that he do all in his power to secure his kingdom before going off and doing something foolish, like finding an undeserving heir, and then dropping himself in the iron mines to wait for death. His grief neatly boxed up, he shoved forward, but the feeling that there was nothing else truly worth living for lingered. He would be forced to take a wife soon, and then his misery would be complete.

He was miles and miles away from the Labyrinth now, and there were only patches of light from a few directions now, shining down from the tall hills and deep quarries. An old interstate, barely used anymore, cut a winding path through the hills. There looked to be an old military outpost ahead, situated along a river that found its origins somewhere deep in upper Appalachia. The sun had dipped below the skyline hours ago, lighting up the trees like fire. The moon was now huge and bright in the sky, shining opposite the clouds encroaching from the northwest.

Jareth heard a rumble of thunder in the far distance, and the air was suddenly charged with an energy that felt like static running along his skin, prickling up his spine, making the hair on his neck stand on end. Unsettled, he dove down, keen to get out of the skies and maybe to take a glance at this relic of old Earth. He glided low and wide, hugging the treeline, and spotted a bonfire behind the behemoth of a military building with three figures dancing merrily around it. Intrigued, he continued his wide path around the clearing and settled in an oak tree with a good vantage point. He sidestepped carefully into a hollow to avoid the newly starting rain, puffing out his feathers to shake the droplets from them, he watched as three wild-looking children flailed in some strange interpretation of a dance, hopping around the bonfire with the sparse remains of what appeared to be a goat spitted over it. They chanted as they danced, and their eyes seemed to glow in the firelight. A fourth hung back, smiling as he watched, stomping his foot in time to their chanting and singing. An unspoken cue later, they threw back their heads, all four of them, and howled from deep in their chests.

The skies answered them as a bolt of lightning struck the heart of their bonfire, and the resulting thunder screamed for all the land to hear. Jareth's feathers flared out, and he could smell ozone. The children laughed.


	3. Chapter 2 A Rainy Evening

All standard disclaimers apply.

Original Posting: 10 July 2009 - tweaking 13 September 2011

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Jareth sat up in the tree, avoiding the raindrops as he observed the beings below him. The trio of boys stopped their antics and shouted up at the skies, "Come dance with us, Lady!" The responding thunder echoed throughout the river valley, and the rain thickened.

"Sister, come play with the boys," the young man said, using a stick to prod the bits of wood and embers that had been blasted out of the pit back into place. "You know they'll never be able to sleep unless you wear them out."

"Please, Lady, please?" The skies were silent. "Spring is upon us, Lady! Come down and celebrate the Equinox with us!" Something grumbled overhead, then there was a sound like a bat breaking on a baseball as it's hit out of the park, fading down to an echo in the distance. The boys cheered, and stared up at the sky, smiling as the ran spattered their faces.

Jareth gazed curiously at the sky where the boys' eyes were fixed, and to his utter astonishment, the rain began to hover and thicken. It caught the moonlight in its droplets, bending the reflection and catching the water's curves. The rain still fell, spanning out as it did. Jareth could make out wings now, and the water began to blacken when the light no longer could shine through, the moon's reflection turning to the licking colors of the fire below. He flinched as the black water impacted the ground, but it did not splash as he'd expected. Instead, it warped around the fire pit, and piled up, spilling over itself like loose change, then reforming.

He realized in that instant that he had found his creature. The beast stood almost five foot tall at the shoulder, and looked, as Prattle had described, like some strange nearly formless mix of a wolf and a big cat. It took a shifting step toward the closest boy. It cocked it's massive head to the left and opened it's huge mouth. Jareth could see the gleaming black teeth contained therein, and watched as an equally huge tongue lolled out of its mouth and attacked the boy, who was knocked backward. He laughed uproariously as the beast licked his face and neck, then it stepped back, leveling its aim at the other two boys. They cackled, and in a burst of magic, fur flowed over all three of them and then there were wolves running upriver, dodging rain drops, chasing after the beast of black sand and moonlight.

Jareth took wing, aiming just underneath the clouds, where no sane bird would fly during a thunderstorm. This was too good an opportunity to miss for a silly little thing like sanity. He followed the wolves who were now chasing the beast upriver. The beast didn't dodge obstacles like trees and fallen logs; it flowed around them, through them, its movements like music in the rainy night. The grains of sand flowed even around the rain drops that tried to beat down upon it.

The wolves leapt and bounded like they were dancing with the moonlight, playfully snapping at each others' heels, chasing away after a rabbit or squirrel, then rejoining the pack. The creature of sand slowed and the rain lightened, crouching down as it met a clearing along the river bank. It let the wolves surround it, then shot them what looked like a smile. The wolves jumped at it in unison, and the creature didn't make to dodge. Instead, the wolves that were apparently trying to knock the beast over with their attack leapt through it and collided with one another. The wolves shook themselves out, and the creature moved away from them with a noise like tearing paper. The medium-sized wolf, the white one, was first on its feet, and circling the beast like prey. The creature, staring at the white wolf, was blindsided by the smallest wolf, the little black one. It didn't seem to matter, as the sand wound its way around the black wolf, lifting it as it was encircled, then tossed carelessly into the river a few meters away.

The large gray wolf made a noise like a snort, and the games continued until all three of them had been soaked. The beast of black sand chuffed, something like laughter, sending out a crystalline puff of breath as it looked over the wolves, who were now sprawled in the clearing, rolling around to dry their coats, but only succeeding in smearing themselves with mud.

Jareth watched the wolves rough house in the clearing until nearly midnight. Having observed them from downwind, he could tell the difference between them now by just their movements. The small black one was the fastest amongst them, and usually struck first. The large gray wolf had eyes like silver, and was the one that had a calculating look about him. He waited for the openings that the smallest one created, then used his full force to attack. The mid-sized white one was the leader, yipping and growling like he was giving orders.

The moon was sitting on the treeline, revealed by a break in the clouds, when Jareth decided to find a perch and wait out the rest of the night in relative comfort. He took wing, circling the clearing quietly. A branch snapped below him, and suddenly, there were gnashing teeth mere inches from his tail feathers. An indignant screech later, and he found himself snagged in midair by a spittle-drenched maw and brought to earth bodily. The small black wolf spat him onto the ground, running its tongue against its teeth as it stared down its snout at him. Lips were drawn back, and a deep growl emanated from the dripping jaws hovering over him. The large wolf snarled, barking once, twice, then turning to look over its shoulder.

"Frankie, leave the birds of prey alone. You know we only kill what we raise," came a voice as dry as the desert, sand impacting only itself in the wind. The wolf pinning him down snarled again, and he heard the slither of grains of sand above him. He was lifted, encircled by a ring of sand, and brought before a faceless head. The ocean-deep pits of eyes studied him. The beast within his soul churned, coming to life of its own accord, and Jareth was struck stunned. The nose shifted, and he was brought closer. Jareth had readied himself to transport away at a moment's notice, but something - his gut, perhaps - urged him to give the beast a chance.

"Sister," his captor hissed, "this owl has been following you and the boys. It reeks of Fae." Jareth realized that he was being held in a grip made of black sand which gleamed in the moonlight, while he watched another beast stare at him from half a length away. His stomach jumped into his throat, choking him; there was not one, but two beasts of black sand.

The other beast swam over the distance in an instant. He watched the blank face studying him intensely, and the snarl in his soul intensified. He tried to appear as a mere owl, and cowered a bit, puffing his feathers up.

The original beast's demeanor suddenly changed, and it drew back upon itself, rolling thunder spilling from its jaws. The second beast stared at it, then loosened its grip a fraction, but still did not let him go.

"Apologies, Goblin King, I did not recognize you," said the beast holding him, its voice like a whisper of salt against crisp paper. The other beast and the wolves looked on in interest.


	4. Chapter 3 In the Company of Wolves

All standard disclaimers apply.

Original Posting: 12 July 2009

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Jareth squawked indignantly. The beasts knew who he was, what he was, and still did not release him. "Don't fret, Sire. No harm will come to you at our hands now." He pecked angrily at the sand that had captured him. The sand got in his mouth danced and buzzed on his tongue like fermented fruit. He tried to spit it out, sure he looked absolutely ridiculous.

The beast holding him seemed to stare at him with sightless eyes. "You are welcome here, Sire, so long as you keep our secrets. We have been here a long time. I'd rather not have to move again," the beast said, his voice going from a whisper of dust in the wind to a fully human voice. The beast-now-young-man loosed his hold on the king, setting him gently on a nearby tree limb. The trio of wolves and the first beast hung back, just far enough to listen in.

In a whirl of glitter, the Goblin King, in full regalia, stood before the young man, fire in his eyes. "Secrets, boy? You are living on Goblin Territory."

"Yes, Sire, we know." Toby smiled, his eyes crinkling in amusement. It wasn't often that they had the opportunity to pull the figurative wool over the local... er... national authorities' eyes. "Please, won't you come to the base, and spend the rest of the night. We have an extra room, and a bed. While it's certainly not the luxury that you're used to, you can dry off and get some rest. I can explain more in the morning." The other beast rumbled, and Toby looked at it, spoke something that Jareth did not understand in a hiss. It grumbled again, then took off skyward in a spiral of black against the midnight sky. Toby sighed.

Jareth stared at Toby, and Toby saw no flicker of recognition. Time had certainly changed the appearances of all of them. What Jareth was seeing when he looked at Toby was a young man of 18 or 19, curling hair that fell somewhere between red and spun gold, and eyes that glittered green like his sister's used to. His nose was wide-set, sloping, and turned up at the tip with a spray of freckles across the bridge of it. He wasn't very tall, coming to just shy of six-foot, and was built, as the saying went, like a brick shithouse; that is to say, wide, but not bulky. His skin was sun-kissed, and sprinkled liberally with freckles, much to his chagrin, and his sister's delight.

"What are you?" he asked finally, still staring at the beast, the wolves, and the young man. "And why don't I know of you?"

"Explanations of any sort are best left to the morning light, Your Majesty. As I said, you're welcome to stay the night in the base and out of the rain, unless you'd prefer a nice oak tree." Toby turned to the wolves. "All right, boys. All inside who are coming inside." Three plaintive whines sounded. "Or you can stay out in the rain. All three of you already smell like wet dog. Let's go." They turned their backs on the Goblin King, and made off at a run toward the base. "Sire, are you accompanying us?"

"A name, boy. At least give me a name," Jareth asked, realizing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with this. "Who are you?"

The boy smiled, the black sand taking his features over, and morphing them into something unrecognizable. "You can call me Sam. The boys are, from largest to smallest, Dean, Peter, and Frankie." The sand reshaped and took off at a run toward the base. Jareth knew that his option of a tree was looking less and less appealing when compared with the relative comfort and warmth that the boy offered. Another burst of glittering magic and he took wing, heading back to the base, wondering what on Earth had possessed him to trust these people, these things, even for the night. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, he realized as he flew. At the very least, he could leave a surveillance crystal somewhere in the base and keep an eye on them. Or, at the very, very least, get himself dried off before he was forced to transport himself back to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. His strength would not be taxed by doing so.

The magic that he guarded had grown so greatly with the merge that he hadn't even found the limit to it yet. Then again, he hadn't really tried to find that limit. There was nothing so huge that he wanted to do that he couldn't do it with only a minimum expenditure of magic. Nothing except one thing, and he knew that was the one thing that he could never do. The red orchid was proof of that. When he tried, and tried, and tried to bring back any part of Sarah, Jareth poured himself into that place. He kept on, draining himself until he passed out. When he woke, the orchid was there.

He shook the thoughts out of his head as he changed back into his Fae form, and met Toby at the door. "What is the other one's name? The beast of black sand... You called her 'sister,'" Jareth said as he stepped onto the landing.

Toby looked back at Jareth as he let the boys into the base. The boys shifted, leaving the vague smell of wet dog following them into the darkness. He was slightly startled as one of the boys looked back over his shoulder and grinned, his eyes flashing red as he disappeared around a corner. "The boys just call her the Lady. You'll have to ask her if she's willing to give you a name."

"That's not quite the answer I was hoping for."

"That's all the answer I am able to give you this night," Toby said as he pulled himself back into flesh from the sand. Jareth followed him up a set of steel stairs that echoed down the hallways. The base was dimly lit by fairylight sconces on the walls, and the hallways they passed seemed interminable. They passed a room lit by what appeared to him as outdoor light. He slowed slightly, looking into the room.

A huge greenhouse, going further back than he could see lay within. There looked to be an orchard near the back, and smaller gardens nearer the front. Goats and chickens wandered freely, most still asleep, caged off only from the smaller plants so they wouldn't be eaten. It was an entire mini eco-system, and Jareth practically itched to study it in depth, and the minds who thought to create it for the winter months.

They passed by yet another room which hummed with water-powered generators, huge turbines being moved by the flowing river below. Just one more thing that he had no idea where to even start with concerning these strangers. Sam, the wolves, and Sam's sister, the first of the beasts of black sand that he had met tonight, nothing made sense anymore in his overcrowded brain.

"Where is your sister?" he asked, still unbalanced by what he had seen already this night.

"She's probably still riding the skies. She does that when she's particularly upset about one thing or another. Once I have you and the Rat Pack settled in for the night, I'm going after her to see if I can talk her down. I think that your appearance threw her for a loop."

"Rat Pack?" he asked lightly.

"Frank, Dean, and Peter. The boys took their names from Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Peter Lawford, members of the original Rat Pack from the 1950's. Actors and singers, respectively. They did a lot of work together."

"That was a long time ago."

"Yes. Yes it was. Time doesn't change some things, though, Sire." Toby turned down a hallway that had a homier quality than the rest of the base, opening the first door on the left, gesturing Jareth in.

The door opened into a room that was cozier than he would have expected, given that he was inside a base that was used for warfare almost two centuries ago. There was a comfortable-looking deep leather chair set near the South-facing window, and books lined the warm tan-toned walls on shelves of all manners. There was a dresser and wardrobe closet across the room which looked to have been carved directly out of an old willow tree with a mirror carefully inlaid. The cutout of the tree took up the whole Western wall of the room, and fairylight lit the area. There was a queen-sized bed opposite the dresser with a hand-stitched quilt tossed over it, and a couple of down pillows at its apex. A deeply plush red rug covered the rough granite floor, which had obviously been replaced there when the original flooring had been torn up. The room seemed to warm something within himself that hadn't felt the touch of heat in ages as he stepped in and looked around.

He turned back to the boy, who had half a smile on his face. "There's another comforter in the bureau if you get cold, Sire. Sleep as long as you like, and we'll handle breakfast when you get up. The loo is down the hall, and the shower is just past it. The boys should be dropping into bed right now, so you've got about ten hours of peace before they'll be beating about the hallway." Jareth couldn't help but smile as he turned back to Toby.

"If I can sleep through the orchestra of goblins in my castle, your boys shouldn't present a challenge." Toby laughed.

"Point taken, Sire. Just so that I warned you in advance." He turned to close the door behind him, then looked over his shoulder. "Should you need anything, I'm in the room two doors down on the same side of the hallway. The boys' rooms are on the other side consecutively. I will ask that you leave the door at the end of the hallway untouched."

"That would be your sister's room, then, I gather?"

"You gather correctly, Sire. Good night." The door closed with a soft 'snick' as it latched, leaving Jareth alone with his thoughts.


	5. Chapter 4 Not Quite Morning

All standard disclaimers apply.

Original Posting: 15 July 2009

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Toby headed back outside and in a spiral of black sand, dropped down onto the wet roof. It was pitch black now, but his eyes could still see. He turned his eyes skyward, leaning back against the ledge on the edge of the base. "Sister, come down and talk. Everyone is bedded down for the night."

The sky growled. Toby shook his head. "Come on. Unless you want me to call you by name. Loudly."

Sarah dropped out of the sky, trailing wisps like fire. She impacted with the roof with nothing more than the hiss of an hourglass and glared at Toby as the beast of black sand rematerialized. "Resorting to threats, Brother?"

"I wouldn't be that mean, Sister." He laughed. "I'd be a totally different kind of mean. I've never seen you take off so quickly. You should have stayed."

"You invited him to stay! Why did you do that? I've lived this long without his interference, and I'll be damned if I let the Fae start butting in now."

"Easy, easy..." he gentled her. "I was offering our hospitality, which was easier in the long run than destroying him." Sarah nodded. She knew, rationally, that this was the best way to handle things. They would appear to give him everything that he wanted and remove themselves as persons of interest. It was like hiding in plain sight. "Why'd you take off, though? It's not like you to be so rattled."

"You know our history, Brother. When I realized it was him, I was suddenly fifteen again, running the Labyrinth, facing things more powerful than I'd ever known, terrified that I would never see you again because of a stupid wish. I nearly lost you because of ten stupid words." She paced irritably.

"It's been a hundred years since I've seen you like this," he mused. She stopped and glared at him. "Just take it easy. I'll give him his answers tomorrow morning, and with any luck, after some snooping around, he'll be finished with us and we can go on about our lives, just like before. If he doesn't want to leave us be, we'll move. It'll suck. It'll suck a whole lot. But we'll manage. We always do." Sarah turned away, pacing to the edge and back, stepping heedlessly into the puddles of water on the roof without causing so much as a ripple.

"He can't know who we are, Brother," she pleaded, then looked out over the valley. She sounded on the verge of tears. "If he finds out, he'll never let me go. There will be nowhere on Earth safe from him."

Toby stared at Sarah, his mind working. He knew his jaw dropped when he finally put it together. "He was in lo-" A tendril of black matter cut off his sentence in mid-word, the black pits of her eyes terrified.

"No. Don't say the words, whether or not you believe it to be truth." She sighed. "I'm calling it a night," Sarah said, taking one last look down the valley before heading through the door leading back inside the base. Toby followed her.

"He's in the guest room right next to mine. The boys should already be asleep," he said as they descended the staircase, the sand flowing like a waterfall.

"I guess this just gives me extra incentive to get the satellites working and upgrade the security system here. It was only a matter of time before one of the nobles found us. I just thought that the Green Thumbs would be a little more discreet."

"Scuttlebutt travels faster than light, Sister. You know that. Go shower up and hit the hay. Don't think about tomorrow."

"Easier said than done. So long as he's here, I'm staying under glamour." Her face and body stayed unrecognizable, but shifted so that it looked and moved like Sarah's human form as they walked down the hallway. "Good night, Brother," she rasped gently, pecking a kiss on his cheek. Toby watched her door long after she disappeared behind it, not seeing the nearly invisible crystal that hugged corners of the hallway along the ceiling.

The moment Sarah shut the door, she thought up and spoke into place the strongest of wards. Toby and the boys, she trusted. Jareth's crystals wouldn't stand a chance, should they try to infiltrate her private space. Anywhere else, however, she would have to be on her guard for the foreseeable future. When he left she might be able to relax, but the coming days, at least, foretold nothing but stress. Sarah could already feel a headache coming on just thinking about it.

Thinking was pointedly not a good thing for her right now. She heaved a sigh, leaning against the door frame. Maybe Toby was right. Maybe once they had fed the Goblin King some half-assed answers about who they were, where they were from, and why in hell's name they were residing in the Southern Territories of the esteemed Goblin Kingdom, he would be on his merry way. She barked a laugh. A snowball had a better chance in hell.

With a heavy sigh, she snagged a towel from the linen closet just around the corner in her room. Sarah headed back down the hallway after making sure the door was shut tightly and the ward was holding.

The bathroom was dark when she walked in, as she had expected. The floor was still damp, likely from the boys having showered. Actually, she was rather surprised that there weren't puddles in the hallway, down the stairs, into the kitchen, and back to the room. The trio liked to keep her on her toes, and did a wonderful job of it.

Sarah let a tendril of magic light the fairylight, keeping the glow confined to the showers and the sinks. The light reflected off of the brushed metal appliances and dark granite surfaces, casting eerily shifting shadows. Sarah tossed her towel onto the rack next to the shower stall and stepped in, turning grains of sand to flesh as she passed the threshold and pressing the controls on the wall to turn the water flow on. Multiple shower heads sputtered to life and Sarah stepped into the spray, relishing the slowly-heating, pounding spray on her back and sides. She tilted her face skyward, letting the water run over her cheeks and collect on her eyelashes. Her hands ran through her hair, slicking it back from her face, and set her head gently against the still-cool tile, rolling her forehead back and forth over it. She let her hands fall to her sides, holding onto the rims of the lower shower heads.

For so long, things had been so simple. She worked in her gardens, tended the animals, worked on her computers, satellites, and other random technology that she came across. She read, and cooked, and relaxed, content to just enjoy life with her brother and her boys. They weren't a bother to her, but rather a pleasant distraction and amazing company.

For a while, she and Toby tried to live in the surviving cities. Then she began to attract attention. She hadn't aged a day while everyone around her withered with time. Though Toby had eventually found a lover in those early days, it had ended for similar reasons. His lover had wanted a family and a life with him, the proverbial white picket fence. He found that he was incapable of accommodating her wish for children, and they grew apart. Toby found out that immortality had a price as he watched his first love in the arms of her husband, heavy with the man's child. They left soon after that for the country, looking a place that they could call home after everything they knew was gone.

Sarah still bore the crescent-shaped scar between her breasts where the beam had impaled her during the crash that had claimed their parents' lives. She woke that night to Toby's tear-soaked, bloodstained face and a thick steel reinforcement beam skewering her like a butterfly and pinning her to the charred and hollow wreckage that was their parents' car. Toby's face had been different, then. When they started out that day, Toby was twelve, and looked it, but when she woke after the wreck, terrified and in pain, he had aged. He no longer had the frame of a twelve-year-old boy; instead he appeared to be in his upper teens. Toby looked the same to this day.

Sarah never could place how old she looked, but when the worlds merged, she had been twenty-six. She had been back from college because of a semester break, nearly finished with her doctorate in English with a minor in Mythology. The family had decided on a day-trip to the coastline and some shopping. Then it had all gone pear-shaped, leaving Toby and Sarah changed, and their family dead. Sarah never did find out what happened to her biological mother, but they hadn't been in contact for years by that point. She supposed it didn't matter.

Sarah was snapped out of her memories as she saw another fairylight go on across the room. Her face was still against the wall, and she didn't move. She smelled Fae. Jareth was in the room.

She was shielded from view by the frosted glass door on the shower stall, and a built-in ward on the door itself against spying. She didn't particularly care that she was nude; the moment she stepped into full view, flesh would shift to sand and she would yet again be unrecognizable as the beast of black sand.

The Goblin King was mirrored in the slick granite, and she looked at his reflection, sighing heavily. He was staring at her in confusion, unaware that she was watching him as well. It was beginning to irritate her. She slammed the water off, and heard him jump, startled. Sarah spun around in the shower, going from irritated to pissed off in a matter of seconds. He was just... standing there.


	6. Chapter 5 Insomnia

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted: 17 July 2009

* * *

The base was entirely too quiet, and he was anxious. Jareth was used to goblins and chickens and all manner of strange beings making noise at a time that anything sane and natural would have been asleep. It had become soothing, in a way. This unnatural silence was filled with potential, which gave Jareth a vague feeling of impending doom.

The flight out to the middle of nowhere and the revelations that he had been given today had exhausted him. Skipping supper had probably not been wise; he should have been starving, but his stomach was still upset and unsettled from his thoughts. Against his better judgment, he left the room and started down the hallway. He headed out intending to wander, until he fell asleep walking, or decided that he was hungry and located the kitchens.

As he passed the showers that he had been shown, though, he heard water running. He couldn't help but be curious as his nature demanded. He quietly into the cavernous room and onto the damp rug, looking toward the shower stalls. A woman stood leaning against the far wall, letting the water cascade over her. The flow slicked her long dark hair against her curves, peaking Jareth's interest as his eyes traced down the line of her body. He stared, watching as the fairylight in the shower stall lit her figure from above. She sighed heavily, and his brow furrowed. Something was familiar about the scent that drifted toward him from the shower, the steam having carried it over, but he couldn't place it.

He took an unconscious step toward the shower, and another fairylight lit up. He startled, then froze; he should have realized that the fairylights were proximity-activated. Jareth's heart jumped into his throat as the woman in the shower suddenly stiffened. Her hand shot out and slammed her fist against the control panel, stopping the flow of water and turning around. He could barely make out her features through the frosted glass, but he could hazard a guess as to what she was currently thinking, watching him watch her.

The woman he was staring at snarled, shifting to sand as she opened the door to the shower. She didn't bothering to grab the towel she had brought in. The water that had been on her fell to the tile leaving a puddle and sand that had comprised her hair flared out threateningly. Sarah knew precisely how nondescript her body was when she was grainy. The sand gave her shape and hinted at features, but left no lines and betrayed no detail. She fixed her glare at the Goblin King, who, at the very least, had the decency to look only at her face rather than search her body for details that it wasn't giving.

"You are the Lady?" he asked, obviously at a loss for words, trying not to squirm under her scrutiny. She was standing stock-still, turned slightly to the right, allowing him a three-quarters profile. She said nothing, then turned and walked straight at him, stopping just shy of his chest. Columns of sand raised her up to his eye-level, and Sarah stared down the Goblin King as she hadn't even been able to do before; not even when she said the words that had finally cracked his facade and beaten him irrevocably, for better or worse. His eyes, one blue, one brown, flickered slightly; a reaction that she recognized as fear. He didn't move, but stared all the harder, like he was trying to see her face through the sand.

She narrowed her eyes, and took a step forward, disintegrating and letting her grains flow around him, not coming into contact with even a single strand of his wild blond mane. She rematerialized behind him, and walked toward the door to the hallway. "Good night, Goblin King," she said in a whisper, like the crackle of an aged piece of paper.

He turned around finally, taking a shaky breath as he looked at the already-empty doorway. He shouldn't be this easily rattled, he thought. He was, as the woman-beast had said, Jareth, King of the Goblins, Son of Nobles, Lord of the Labyrinth, and the most powerful Fae ever to have lived. But this creature, this dark beast, shook him to his core. He was trembling, he realized as he stepped over to the mirrored ledge by the sinks. He looked at his face for a moment, then sighed. The fairylights went out in the bathroom as he left it, and stepped back out into the hallway. He went back to his room, and dropped down onto the bed, still fully clothed. His eyes slipped closed as the fairylight dimmed, and, for the first time in ages, Jareth fell into sleep without a fight.

Sarah had returned to her room, shutting the door quietly when all she wanted to do right then was slam it off its hinges. She should have stabbed the son-of-a-bitch. Seriously, who was stupid enough to walk into a bathroom when there was clearly someone in the shower? She rolled her eyes, releasing the hold on the beast of black sand and becoming a creature of flesh once more. Jareth was, obviously, precisely that stupid.

She padded over to her dresser and pulled on a camisole and a pair of loose cotton pants, then took a seat on the ledge by the window. Sarah pushed the glass open and looked out over her valley, her home, breathing in the cool, rainy air. It finally smelled like spring.

Sleep, she knew, would be a long time in coming tonight. A flick of her hand and the soft notes of music filled her room, not loud enough to carry beyond her door, and certainly not loud enough to disturb anyone. She smiled. Nothing short of a meteor landing on top of the boys would wake them. Toby was a different matter; he was a light sleeper like herself. She leaned back against the window box and sighed, thinking, not for the first time, about the Goblin King. Jareth, her mind whispered traitorously. No, she reasoned to herself, not even in her mind. If she were to think of him as Jareth, he would cease to be merely the Goblin King, the Fae that stole her brother at her unwitting request. If he weren't the Goblin King, she would be forced to acknowledge to herself that he had looked positively gaunt. She would be forced to see the dark circles under his eyes, hidden by a glamor that she could see past. She would have to see that he hadn't slept well in a long, long time, that his frame was even skinnier than she remembered, and that the sparkle of mischief and hope in his heterchromial eyes had died. She sighed again, wondering what kept him awake nights like this.

Sarah buried her nose in a book and waited for sunrise.


	7. Chapter 6 Morning Antics

All standard disclaimers apply.

Original Posting: 20 July 2009

* * *

Sarah woke with the morning sun warming her face, surprised that she had slept at all. She was slumped against the window box where she had fallen asleep reading. The Brothers' Grimm Fairy Tales had fallen off of her lap during the night, and lay open to the Tale of Twin Brothers on the floor below her. Sarah briefly debated sleeping for another half-hour or so. She thought about it for a moment, but didn't want to end up sleeping the day away. Duty made her decision for her and she rose, stretching out.

The beast took over her appearance and her clothing dropped through the sand. She tossed her clothes on the bed and she slipped out into the hallway. The base was quiet, but she knew that Toby would already be in the greenhouse gathering food for breakfast and feeding the horses.

She was about to go down the hallway when something caught her attention. A glint of crystal, hovering nearly out of sight, right above her door. Sarah looked closer. The globe shimmered and smelled like Fae magic. Jareth. He'd been trying to spy. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the globe had been split cleanly in two by her ward, rendering it useless. Well. At least something had gone right last night, and his prying eyes had been thwarted. A growl issued from deep in her chest, and she snatched the crystal pieces off of the pipes that they'd been balanced on, tucking them safely away within her. This would not be forgotten.

She headed down the hall toward the boys' room, then glanced warily at the door the the guest room across the way. Steeling herself and ignoring the tense coil that thoughts of the Goblin King in the room behind her brought on, she sent out tendrils of sand under the doors to the boys' rooms and tickled them awake.

It was nearing eight, and the faster the chores were finished, the faster she could escape into town. She actually did need to go into town to get a remote terminal for the satellite receiver in the command base. The part that she had pulled out of the panel smelled like ozone, and the contacts had melted together.

She knew she had succeeded at waking the boys when she heard the peals of laughter coming from their rooms. "Last one into the greenhouse rounds up the goats," she called. Scrambling was heard from inside the rooms, and their doors burst open. Sarah was greeted by three shirtless, barefoot boys with wolfish grins. "Ready?" she asked. Frankie didn't wait, but started off at a sprint, fur flowing over him in mid-stride.

"Cheat!" Peter yelled, taking off. Dean was close behind, shaking his head with a smile, amused by his brothers-in-mischief.

Sarah heard claws against the floor and smiled. A door opened behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see a bleary-eyed Goblin King. He blinked at her.

"Good morning, Goblin King," she rasped, then started off toward the greenhouse, the sand flowing down the hallway like a tsunami wave, breaking against the walls and crashing down the hallways. The sand splashed as it flowed, then reabsorbed, mimicking the rough surf. She felt the Goblin King following them at speed, chasing after them as they neared the greenhouse. He was moving too fast to be running; he must have changed into his owl form.

Sarah was right. Toby was already in the greenhouse brushing out the horses. Frankie was running around as a wolf, snapping sullenly at the heels of the goats. Even cheating at the race, his brothers had trounced him.

"Good morning, boys. Let's get this done with and the Lady and I will make breakfast," Toby said as he finished up the black mare, earning himself an appreciative snort from her. He tossed her an apple, then led her and her colt out into the valley for the day.

"Why are you still sand, Lady?" Peter asked as he shimmied up an apple tree and tossed fruit down to Dean, who was waiting below with a basket. She heard a flutter of feathers land in the tree, and turned to see Jareth as his feet hit the ground.

"Because we have a guest, Peter." She knew he was staring at her, and tried to ignore him. Peter dropped back down to the ground and Dean followed Sarah over to the orange trees. She busied herself with sending up tendrils of sand to pluck the oranges from the crest of the tree while the Peter ran off to go feed the chickens and collect their eggs.

"Why is he here, though?" Dean asked quietly, collecting the oranges from the lower branches. She slowed her movements, looking over her shoulder at Dean. As quiet as he was, he was the most perceptive of the boys. His deep brown eyes stared at the black pits of her own.

"I don't know," she said softly. Dean refocused on something behind her, and Sarah turned around coming face to face with the Goblin King. "Yes?" she asked.

"May I assist in some way?" he asked her. He looked better than he had last night, some of the darkness beneath his eyes had faded, and the look of impending mischief had returned. She smiled.

"Peter is feeding the chickens. You could help him." The look of dismay apparent on his face was worth him having blundered upon Sarah and her ilk in the first place. She smiled and went about what she was doing, hearing Jareth walk away.

"It had to be the chickens. I deal with chickens in my halls daily, and she wants me to..." his words faded with distance. She smirked.

Half an hour later, everyone was done with the morning chores. The boys wandered off to shower and Sarah took the food to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast, leaving Jareth and Toby in the greenhouse. The chickens were still huddled around Jareth, and followed him like ducklings, looking blankly hopeful at him when he tried to stare him down. He sighed, trying to shoo them. Toby snickered.

"Looks like you have a fan club," he commented wryly. Jareth glared at him, unamused.

"Something tells me that she suggested feeding the chickens on purpose," Jareth said irritably. Toby let out a laugh.

"Oh, I know she did. Your kingdom's reputation precedes your arrival, you realize."

"She knows of my kingdom, then?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed with a grin of amusement. "We aren't ignorant of Fae dealings. We just avoid them due to practicality."

"Practicality?"

"Fae politics are a complicated game that you have to be involved in wholeheartedly, or you'll never get anywhere with them." Jareth nodded.

"You do pay attention, don't you."

"I try." He shrugged. "Let's go shower, then get some breakfast, and then you can grill me. How's that?" Toby asked, walking toward the doors.

"I do believe, Master Sam, that it's a plan," Jareth said before shaking some more seed off of his hands much to the jubilation of the waiting chickens. Toby turned before they left, letting Jareth past him before the hens realized that their hero had left them, and waved his hand at the domed ceiling. Dark heavy-looking clouds roiled beneath the rafters and with a growl, they let loose. The boy had just created a rainstorm in a room the size of an airplane hangar. Maybe there was some truth to the rumors about Rainbringers after all.

Back in the kitchen, Sarah had changed her appearance. Being sand wasn't very practical in the kitchen; she was used to being flesh while she cooked. She didn't, however, look like she naturally did. Instead, she wore her going-to-interact-with-normal-people guise. Her hair was just long enough to be pulled back, and goldenrod yellow, and she was shorter than her natural height. She looked like she could be Toby's twin sister in a black tank top, camouflage cargo pants, and a pair of hiking boots.

Sarah set to work chopping potatoes and set them to fry in a skillet on the stove, then started water for the coffee press. She cut up the apples and juiced the oranges, setting everything on the table, then started slicing yesterday's bread for toast. Once the bread was cut and the potatoes stirred and spiced, she started mixing up a batch of yeast dough for supper that night. Sarah heard the boys running down the hallway in anticipation, their noses leading them directly to the food currently in preparation.

They reached the kitchen, and with a stern look from Sarah, they slowed themselves, smiling sheepishly. Between the three of them, the table was set in no time; Dean went for the glasses while Frankie got the silverware, and Peter set out the plates and mugs.

By the time Sarah started scrambling the eggs, the boys were already nibbling at the apples, tossing the seeds at one another while they sat impatiently at the table. She felt rather than saw Jareth's hesitation as Toby led him into the kitchen and sat him between himself and Dean.

"Need a hand, Sis?" Toby asked. She shook her head.

"Serve up, if you would, Brother." Her voice came out in a higher tone than her natural voice, but that was part of the disguise as well. The boys were well used to it by this time, but Jareth seemed entranced, if his staring at the back of her head was anything to go by.

"Gladly. I was starving an hour ago. Someone slept too long," he teased, picking up the spitting skillet with the potatoes in it, and dished them out to the waiting plates, then pulled the bread-now-toast off the toasting rack and setting it on a plate in the middle of the table. The cheese and butter came next out of the cold box, and Sarah followed up with the coffee and eggs, divvying them up more or less evenly; there would always be a squabble between Peter and Frankie about who had gotten the most scrambled egg.

Sarah and Toby sat down together and the frenzy began; the boys grabbed at the toast and apples voraciously, and growls could be heard from under their breath. They were paid no mind by the siblings, despite Jareth's curious stare.

"There is no standing on ceremony here. You'd better snatch while you can, Goblin King," Toby said, snatching the carafe of orange juice with a tendril of sand before the resident wild boys could knock it over.

"I was merely waiting for the gentlemen here to sheath their claws lest I bleed all over such a lush breakfast," he said. The boys looked up sheepishly.

"Good strategy," Toby conceded. Sarah snorted, not looking up from her plate. By all rights, she should have left him bleeding all over the showers last night when he walked in on her. And again this morning when she found out about his attempt at spying.

"It's really too bad," she started, pushing her eggs around the plate with her fork, "that your strategies aren't always as good." Sarah reached into the pocket on her cargo pants and brought out two halves of a perfect crystal scrying sphere. Jareth seemed to pale when he realized what, exactly, she was holding. "You're lucky that I'm in a forgiving mood, Goblin King," she hissed, the halves dissolving like there had been acid poured onto them. The liquid mess seemed to bleed into her skin, absorbing to become part of her. The boys seemed to pay her no mind, still eating ravenously; no one at the table doubted that they had caught every word.

Dean finished eating first and started on seconds.


	8. Chapter 7 Curiosity

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted: 27 July 2009

* * *

The rest of breakfast was finished more or less companionably, and the boys cleaned up while Sarah put the leftovers away. Jareth and Toby sat and chatted comfortably. Sarah was glad that she didn't have to deal with him.

"I'm heading into town today to get some parts and supplies. Anyone need anything?" Sarah asked when she was done. Toby shook his head.

"I need to restock the wood. It shouldn't take that long; how about we meet you in town for supper?" he asked. "Rose has specials at the café tonight, and my lady has been dying to meet you."

"Why do you talk about me to your lover, brother? I'm sure she doesn't want to hear it," she said, shaking her head.

"Ah, but you haven't met her yet," Toby retorted.

"Lady," Dean asked. "May I come with you into town? Peter and Frank gave already gave me their lists, and they're going to finish the chores."

"Of course. I'll meet you out at the stable." She turned back to Toby. "You sure you just don't want me to bring you something back?" Sarah sounded hopeful.

"We'll see you later. Both of us," he smirked. Jareth was intently staring at Sarah's appearance, trying to reconcile it with the beast of black sand that he had known her as up until this point. Something had, apparently, caught his eye. He was staring at her ear, which was pierced multiple times with both silver and steel.

When she caught him staring and glared at him, it seemed to him that she was looking at him from the black pits that were the beast of black sand's eyes. Her sclera were perfectly white, like sun-bleached bone, but her irises were flat, soul-sucking black. She looked out from behind eyes that didn't have the vital sparkle of life. "Right," she said, finally. "I'll see you later."

"Both of us," Toby teased.

"Yes. Both of you." She shook her head and walked out, her brother smiling at her retreating figure.

"You're particularly good at teasing her," Jareth commented.

"I've had a long time to perfect it, but you've added an interesting catalyst."

"So I've noticed. She doesn't seem to particularly care for me." Toby laughed.

"I suppose that's one way to put it. Shall we?"

They went off toward a shed built into the north side of the building, and Toby opened it up to reveal a menagerie of mismatched, obviously modified, four-wheelers. He went in behind the line of ATVs and hooked a sled to the hitch on the back of the closest one, the biggest one, then straddled it, punching the ignition. It roared to life, and Toby revved the engine a couple of times.

"The red one is running if you'd rather not ride bitch with me," he said with a smirk. Jareth looked like he'd rather cut off an arm. Instead of commenting, he let his owl form take over and took to the air.

Toby laughed as he gunned it, heading out across the field to the north east. The ground was mud where Jareth circled above the tree line, following the ATV as it wound its way up the hill, apparently headed toward a large flat outcropping with a copse of maple saplings on one side of it, and a clearing on the other. Jareth landed and changed back as Toby parked. Toby went up to one of the trees and checked the tap put there to collect the sap.

"I believe you owe me some answers as you promised last night, Sam," Jareth said as he came up to the boy with a serious look on his face.

"We don't owe you anything, Goblin King; however, I did promise answers, and I'm not about to argue with you about semantics. I'll answer them as honestly as I can." Jareth sneered but held his tongue as Toby turned his back to collect the sap from another tree, storing it in a liquid-proof sealable bag. Jareth knew he'd be a fool not to take this opportunity.

"Very well. How long have you been here?" he asked pointedly.

"Here, as in, 'in this valley,' or here, as in, 'in existence?'" Toby asked, kneeling near the tap and emptying it, looking back over his shoulder.

"Both," Jareth clarified. Toby kicked a branch off of the path downhill as he went to the next tree.

"We've been in this valley, living at the base for around seventy years now. I've been alive for two hundred and two years. My sister has thirteen years on me." Jareth's eyes widened as he did the math.

"You were alive during the merge," he said, astounded.

"Well, only technically." Toby leaned to the side and lifted his shirt on the left to reveal a map of puckered skin going up his side and around his back. "The way we figure, my sister and I died during the merge." He spoke of it like a fond memory, dropping his shirt back down. Upon closer look, Jareth saw sadness in the way he held his shoulders. "I lost my parents that day as well. It's been my sister and me ever since."

"She raised you, then?"

"From age twelve on up."

"What about the boys?" Something about the three wolf-boys struck a chord with Jareth, and he couldn't place his finger on it. Perhaps they reminded them of himself; perhaps not.

"We found them living in a cave near this very place. They're barely younger than we are. They were probably five, at the oldest, when the worlds merged."

"They don't look much older than that, though," he said, staring at Toby, confused. He shook his head, continuing around on the path.

"The boys, my sister, and I haven't aged a day in appearance since the merge. It was a strange thing to get used to, being twelve, and looking like I do now. I dare say I grew into it," he quipped.

"What is your sister's name? You keep calling her 'Sister.'"

"She is known in the nearest town as Lilith or Lily. I suppose you can call her that." Jareth stopped, realizing something.

"But that's not her name, is it? Nor is Sam yours."

"No. We haven't used our names in two hundred years. I call her 'Sister,' and the boys call her 'Lady.' They call me either 'Brother,' or something unrepeatable in polite company." He smiled.

"You have me at a disadvantage, Sam," Jareth conceded. "You know who and what I am."

"It's better this way. What kind of strategists would we be if we let a stranger disadvantage us on our own turf?" he asked. "Truth be told, the fewer people know we're here, the easier it is for us. It's been so long since we've been able to just be happy. I don't want you to release your hounds and try to drive us out. That won't end well for anyone involved."

"Well," Jareth reasoned, "after the hospitality you've shown, that would be inexcusably rude of me."

"Indeed. We know you can be cruel," he laughed, then sobered. "I'll be frank with you; you very nearly weren't standing here." Jareth's blood ran cold.

"What," he asked, "is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, had my sister not recognized you in your owl form, I probably would have crushed you and dropped your broken body on the outskirts of town," Toby said without inflection.

"And what's stopping you from doing that right now?"

"I want to see how this plays out," he said, making it clear that he knew something that Jareth did not. The confidence in his voice was unnerving to the Goblin King. Such cold surety in a boy only a fraction of his age... "I'm sorry to have scared you. I did promise to be honest with you."

"You didn't frighten me. I'm far too powerful to have just let you crush me, and I've lived much too long--"

"That's why you should have been frightened, Goblin King. You've lived so long, and have never seen anything like us. Neither has the rest of the world. Hell, neither have we," Toby said softly, capping up the container of sap. "We don't age. We can't die by any means that we know of. Lord knows we should have by now." He looked out over the valley sadly.

Jareth felt his patience wearing thin, and knew that frustration was not a good state of mind for him. "Let me see if I've got this straight," he said, a sharp edge lining his velvet voice. "You live out in the middle of nowhere, which happens to be the southern stretches of my kingdom. You have no names that you'll give me. Your sister, at least, has obviously seen me before, because she's the one who recognized me and, essentially, kept you from killing me without a second thought. You both obviously see me as a threat, though." Who are you?"

Toby shrugged, shaking his head. "Our truth will give you power over us. I have no answers that I can give you in words alone, but I can show you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an acorn, and motioned for Jareth to follow him. Toby led the Goblin King back up the path and back into the clearing where he'd left the ATV. He knelt down a short distance away from the machine, and pressed the acorn into the rain-softened soil.

When he pressed his hand over the newly-planted acorn, Jareth was astonished to see it sprout and grow. The little plant took root, split its shell wide open and shot skyward, startling the Goblin King backward. The bark thickened, and the tree branched out like ice crystals on a frozen window, growing thick green leaves as it went. "We may bring life to that which can live," Toby said softly.

He lifted his hand without looking, and the oak tree shivered, rattling its leaves. A sudden downpour later, and the ground around the men was covered in a blanket of dry, crunchy oak leaves. The tree itself creaked as it withered and dried out. "We may bring death to that which lives already," he said, equally as quietly.

He slammed his palm against the rough, dry wood, and the oak exploded into firewood-sized pieces, leaving only a shredded stump behind. "And we may destroy that which is dead or non-living.

Jareth simply stared as Toby went around to collect the wood pieces and load them onto the cart hooked to the ATV, thoughts blowing through his jumbled mind like a hurricane.


	9. Chapter 8 A Stroll in the Woods

All standard disclaimers apply. World map (mostly for my reference, with a couple of notes) is located here: picasaweb . go ogle . com/ gothangelic/ Fic?feat= directlink

Originally Posted: 30 July 2009.

* * *

Sarah hitched the fruit-packed saddle baskets to her stallion after setting the packets of lunch that she'd packed on top. Frog, the stallion, nickered as Sarah finished up. His coat looked like stars shining through the clouds in a pitch sky, his white tail swishing idly. Frog shook his head as he saw the apple that his Lady was holding out for him. He snorted gratefully as she allowed him to take one from her hand.

Frog had been with his Lady for a long, long time now. She didn't corral him; she never needed to. He was there when she needed him, and came when the thunder called him.

Dean mounted his gray mare, Medusa, and she swiveled her head to see him. She, too, wore baskets filled with fruit. Fruit in the winter, while still readily available, was usually tasteless. The grocer had a standing order for whatever Sarah could get to him.

Sarah mounted Frog and they set off, following the river bank south east toward the town. It wasn't long before they were in the thick of the forest.

Dean looked idly over at Sarah; she was wearing her poker face. Unfortunately, when she deigned it necessary to wear that face, everyone knew that she was either worried or upset. He could easily guess why, knowing part of the reason already. Any other time on this trail, her posture was relaxed, and her face held a hint of a smile as she took in the beauty around her on the way into town.

"How do you suppose the Goblin King found us?" Dean asked Sarah after a couple of quiet miles on the trail.

"I'm not sure he really meant to. He seems genuinely surprised to find someone living this far out." She paused. "I know that there are rumours circulating in town about the beasts in these valleys," she smiled, "but we expected that. I don't know if that's why he's here, though."

"You did the right thing, stopping Brother from crushing him to bits."

She chuckled. "I think it would've been easier, in some ways, if I had let him do it. But knowing who he was, I couldn't let Brother hurt him."

"The Fae Councils would have come after us if he didn't return to them after a time."

"Yeah. We could have disappeared, though, if we had needed to. There are other places we could go."

"We worked so hard to make this place home," Dean said sadly. He was right. The five of them had spent countless days working in the valley, in the greenhouses, and in the base, making them habitable and productive. Sarah was invaluable with her ability to restore the old technology that was left in the base; they were very lucky that the base had been left well-stocked by its previous military inhabitants.

"I don't want to leave, but if the Goblin King sinks his teeth into this bone, he'll never leave it alone."

"Why do you think he's here?" Dean asked, looking at Sarah's still-blank face.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "Do you remember him?"

"Some. More than Peter and Frankie, anyway. They just played with the goblins in the throne room when we were wished away," he trailed off, remembering. "I remember him crying."

"Crying?"

"Yeah. I remember the whole castle started to shake, and the goblins started to snatch us up and drag us out to safety. When I looked back over my shoulder at the king, he was staring at a crystal in his hand with tears streaming down his cheeks," Dean shuddered. He remembered the King as he saw him that day; his teeth bared, his jaw clenched so hard he thought the man's teeth would break, his stance rigid. The goblins shuffled the boys out into the courtyard and out of the castle when they heard a cry, an anguished howl to rival any rock caller's voice. "Whatever it was broke him in a bad way."

"He was staring at a crystal, in his throne room, crying?" Sarah almost didn't believe Dean, but he wasn't one to make up stories like his younger brothers.

"Yeah. I couldn't see what he was watching. We heard later on, a couple years later, that the King had lost his mind."

"He seems to have regained it," Sarah said.

"I suppose. He still doesn't seem like I remember him."

"You're right," she said, "but the years can change a person."

"You haven't changed, Lady." She smiled. "You're as kind as the day we met you."

"You're sweet, Dean. To tell you the truth, I don't think I've changed since I solved the Labyrinth and won my brother back. I gave up my dreams that day. That's the kind of thing that changes a person. It makes you grow up, whether or not you want to; after that, you know that there are things that you would give your dearest dreams up for, no matter how sweet they were." She looked off into the distance ahead and sighed.

"But what dream did you give up for Brother?" Dean asked, his curiosity running wild. She smiled sadly, looking at him, and shook her head.

"I gave up the chance to be in love." Dean was stunned into stillness. She was quiet for a time, then spoke again. "I didn't know it at the time, but the story that I wove was real. The Goblin King gave the girl special powers, which helped her win the Labyrinth, and win back the baby. I had no earthly idea at the time what he had offered me. I only knew that I gave up my dreams, but I gained my life as it is now. My brother, my boys, my life. I do have my regrets, but I wouldn't give this life up for all the world if it were offered. I couldn't have done anything differently."

"We love you too, Lady. We just wish you could be happy."

"I'm happy already," she argued.

"No, you're content. There's a difference."

"Content?"

"Yes. Brother is happy, or would be, if you could be. You throw yourself into fixing machines, and being a mother to all of us. It's not that we don't appreciate it and love you all the more for it, but no matter how hard you try, if you gave up your dreams, there's always going to be a void that we can't fill. You don't have a lover. To the best of my knowledge, you've never taken one."

"Dean, a man isn't going to be the source of my happiness," she said with a laugh. "That man, especially."

"He's a piece of work, surely. I mean, trying to spy on you. Really?"

"I know," she rolled her eyes. "Take a hint, why don't you? I know that he could sense the ward that I put on the door."

"Curiosity, cat, and all that," Dean said.

"If he was actually in love with me, I'm surprised that his curiosity didn't demand that he find 'the girl who ate the peach and forgot everything' after the worlds merged."

"Why didn't you go find him afterward?" Sarah shrugged.

"I don't really know. Between raising my brother and figuring everything out..."

"Your dreams got shoved to the back of the line," Dean supplied. Sarah shot him a look.

"If that's the way you want to put it."

"You should at least talk to him. You haven't said two words to him since he showed up."

"I have so," she said, feigning at being affronted.

"You've yelled at him at least once. And don't think I didn't hear you awake last night in the shower."

"You little sneak!" she said with a laugh. Frog snorted, tossing his head.

"Hey, if no one tells me anything, I've got to figure it out on my own, don't I?"

Sarah smirked, and they continued on into town.


	10. Chapter 9 Town Living

All standard disclaimers apply. **--! MAPS AVAILABLE -- LINKS AT BOTTOM OF MY PROFILE !--**

Originally Posted: 03 August 2009

Dean and Sarah led their horses down the sloped path and toward the bridge into town. The horses clopped down the street, which was becoming more paved than cobbled as they headed downtown, and the late-morning shoppers looked up to see the travellers on horseback.

She heard a name being called from ahead in the distance. A short woman who looked in her late forties came scrambling out of the café, and made for them at speed, her greying blond hair was bound in a braid and trailing behind her as she ran.

"Good morning, Rose!" Sarah called with a laugh, dismounting. Frog shuffled, tossing his head. The woman ran up to Sarah and enveloped her in a hug.

"It's been months!" she said, holding on tightly, then pulling back so she could look the other woman over. "If I hadn't known that Sam has been here nearly every day, I would've thought the worst!"

"I've got Sam and the boys to keep me safe. I just don't get out here as often as I should."

"It's just been such a long winter, Lil, and the black beasts in the forest--"

"Are no more bother to me than a fly," Sarah assured. Dean smiled at their secret, and Rose looked up at him.

"Hello, Dean. How are you and your brothers?"

"Very well, ma'am. They'll be here tonight for the festival."

"Good that they'll make it, then. Have you been staying out of trouble?"

Dean grinned and reigned in Medusa as she shifted. "No, ma'am."

"Good boy," she laughed. "Keep your brothers on their toes."

Sarah reached into the baskets on Frog's side and pulled out a handful of oranges. She gestured for Rose to make a basket out of her apron, and set the fruit within. "On the house, Rosie."

Rose beamed. "How about you stop by the café for a late lunch and we'll eat in the garden?"

"That sounds great, Rose," she said with a smile as she got another hug. "I'll go drop these at the grocer, and I'll be over. Is there anything you needed, as long as I'm headed there?"

"Oh, no, Lil. I'm stocked to the teeth right now because of the festival. You just hurry along, and come on by when you're finished."

Dean led Medusa further into town as Sarah hoisted herself back onto Frog's back. "I'll see you later on, Rose," she said as Frog started to move again.

"How on earth do you ride bareback on that huge beast?" Rose called after her.

Sarah laughed as she answered back, "I wouldn't dare saddle or reign my Frog Prince!"

"Bye, Mme Rose!" Dean called as they rode off.

Sarah and Dean rode through the downtown market, marvelling at the flags and streamers and decorations lining the street. There were torches and paper lanterns, currently unlit, along the sidewalks to light the way through town. They went all the way to the larger river on the east side of town where the final part of the festivities would take place later that night.

The grocer was about a quarter-mile down the road from Rose's café. With the horses, she and Dean made good time.

The store was located in a moderately-sized, free-standing, red brick building. It had been around for a long time; it was family-run, dated to back before the merge, and was well-taken-care-of, just as it had always been.

"Dean, would you go see if Mr. Myers is in? Tell him that I'm outside," Sarah said. Dean nodded and slid down from Medusa's back, running his hand along her neck as he walked into the store, the glass doors sliding open for him as he passed through.

Sarah dismounted and waited with Frog and Medusa while Dean went inside. She leaned against Frog, petting his white mane absently, threading her fingers through the wavy strands. She hadn't stood there long, when someone cleared their throat behind her.

She turned to see a man standing there, staring at her. Sarah stood straight up, turning to face him.

"Pardon me, Sir. Am I blocking your way?" she asked politely, though she knew that she wasn't.

"No, no, nothing like that. Your horses are lovely," the man said. He was tall, gaunt, and looked generally shabby; he was unshaven, and his mop of greasy brown hair was shot through with grey. Sarah studied him closer, noticing that his eyes were a glassy, watery blue.

"Thank you," she said. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Not in particular," he responded. He wavered briefly like he was drunk, but his speech had no slur. "I wonder, where does one find a horse like that?"

"Which?"

"The big black one sporting the baskets," he said, taking a step closer. Frog growled from deep in his chest, and Sarah put a hand on his neck to gentle him. He wasn't taking kindly to this stranger, nor being referred to as a mere animal. The man, however, obviously wasn't intelligent enough to heed Frog's warning.

"I wouldn't know where to find another like him," Sarah said, not giving him anything to work with. Frog had been living in the valley when she and Toby had found the place. She figured that he had to have come from a farm because of the lead harness that he'd been wearing when he approached her.

"Ah, that's too bad. He really is a magnificent animal. What breed is he? Looks like a draft horse. A Clydesdale, maybe." Another step closer.

"Close. He's a Gypsy horse." Frog apparently decided that the man had gotten too close to his Lady, and reached out, snapping his teeth near the man's chest. He back-pedalled, tripping over his own feet, and landing not-so-neatly on his arse.

"Sorry about that, my boy doesn't take kindly to strangers. Well, to anyone, really," she said, not bothering to help him up.

"That vicious thing tried to kill me!" the blue-eyed man yelled from the ground.

"No," she corrected. "He didn't try to kill you. That was a warning. You'd know if he tried to kill you. You'd be dead."

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked staring at her, the lines around his eyes deepening. "Who are you?"

"You can call me Lilith. And yes, I do happen to be from around here; I simply don't live in town."

"You're the witch that lives out in the forest!"

"Pardon me, Sir; a witch?" Sarah laughed. "Hardly."

Dean chose that moment to come back outside, the owner of the grocery store in tow. "I found him," Dean said triumphantly. He levelled his gaze at the man standing in front of Sarah. "Who's your friend?"

"Don't know. He never introduced himself," she quipped.

"Damnit, Harlan!" Mr. Myers yelled. "I've told you time and time again not to harass my customers!"

The man, Harlan, apparently, looked angrily back at the grocer. "I'm not harassing anyone! Her animal tried to kill me!"

"Oh, pull the other one. Get out of here, Harlan, before I call the police. I don't want to see you back here unless you're shopping," the old man snapped, his brown eyes squinting behind his horn-rimmed glasses. They watched the shabby man retreat around the building. "I'm sorry about that, Lilith. He's not usually a bother."

"Who was that, Mr. Myers?" Dean asked, looking at the corner that Harlan had disappeared behind. He inhaled deeply, so as to remember his scent. Myers didn't notice.

"That's Harlan Sisk. I would say that he's the town drunk, but I've never seen him with a bottle. He lives on the south side of town. Real run-down place. Kind of reminds me of the man, himself. Harlan moved here round about thirty years now. He's never been right, that boy."

"Sorry to cause trouble anyway, Mr. Myers," Sarah offered.

"Oh, you're no trouble, young lady. Especially when you've brought-- are those oranges that I smell?"

"Yes, sir," she said with a grin. "Two bushels of oranges, and two bushels of apples. The pecans and peaches are coming in slowly. We've only gotten a few of them so far, and the cherries aren't far off. Give them two weeks or so."

The grocer beamed. "Young lady, you are a marvel. Even with a greenhouse, I don't know how you do it."

"I've got to keep my secrets, Mr. Myers."

"Keep all the secrets you want, Lil, as long as you keep your gardens growing, and bringing me your leftovers!"

"Absolutely." They sealed the deal after a small, good-natured haggle, mostly tradition, and Sarah's house account with the grocer was updated. Sarah lifted her knapsack from the fruit baskets, and bid him goodbye after he traded her full baskets with the empty ones from her last visit.

Dean fastened the baskets to Medusa, and with a light slap, sent her on her way home. Frankie and Peter would take care of her when she returned. Sarah hugged Frog's huge neck, and whispered 'thank you.' She held out an apple that she had saved for him, and a crunch later, he was on his way back out of town, following closely on Medusa's hooves.

"All right, then," she said after the store's doors had closed. They walked back into downtown. "Where are you off to for the day?"

"I'm going to hit the book store, then maybe a couple other places. There's a comic that I want to have put on order for Frankie, and Peter wanted some paint and canvas."

"Is Frankie on one of his manga kicks?"

"Yeah. The one that he wanted comes in monthly instalments. I'm not complaining, though; I get to read them too." Dean grinned at Sarah.

"Okay. Do you need any coin?"

"Nope, I'm set. We'll meet you at sundown in the café, yeah?"

"Sounds good. If Rose lets us, maybe we can watch the fireworks from her rooftop garden."

"Awesome. See ya later, Lady!" Dean ran off down the street, narrowly dodging a girl on a Vespa scooter that wasn't paying attention. Sarah cringed, then laughed as the driver stopped to swear at the boy. She could hear him laughing.

She shook her head and sighed, then started off walking, humming to herself as she went, her mood much improved from that morning.


	11. Chapter 10 Girl Talk

All standard and abnormal disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted: 10 Aug 2009

* * *

Sarah walked into the café, passing the old men at their chess board out in front. They both completely ignored her, staring intently at their game. She could hear one of them grinding his teeth as she passed.

The café was the front part of the building that sold light fare, and the bistro was further back. Rose always had local brews, fresh bread, and slow-cooked foods on hand for evening meals and late afternoon lunches in the bistro.

"Rose?" she called out, entering the bistro section of the café.

"Back here, Lil," Sarah heard from behind the counter. She looked over the bar counter to see Rose tossing a handful of herbs over the beef roasts that she had in the ovens behind the counter.

"That smells heavenly," she said, inhaling deeply. The roasts were just starting to get fragrant. "Did you open up your gardens yet?"

"Yeah, I pulled the solar heater panels down yesterday for the first time this season."

"Wasn't it too cold for the plants?"

"Not during the day, at least. I put the panels back up in the evening. Let me grab the coffee. You go on up," she said, turning to the old men playing chess out front. "Hey, Eddie," she called. No response. Rose rolled her eyes. "Edgar!" She tried, a little louder. Still, the man seemed intent on the chessboard. She sighed. "Free refills if you answer me," Rose said.

"Eh?" the first man asked finally, looking up from his game.

"Watch the place for me, Eddie, and you can have your fill of coffee for the rest of the day," she said, fondly exasperated with the man.

He grinned toothlessly and flashed her a thumbs up, then went back to his game. The other man that was staring at the chessboard looked up only to glare at him. Rose shook her head and went around the corner from the bar and upstairs, bringing a carafe of fresh coffee and a couple of mugs along with her.

Sarah was sitting at the iron filigree table in the middle of the garden, leaning back and playing with a grape vine as Rose poured her a cup and sat down herself.

"How are things in your neck of the woods? I haven't seen you since just after Yule!" she said, taking a long sip of the brew.

"Things are fine. Well, they used to be fine. I've been keeping busy. I'm waging war on the satellite system in the base. I'm going to fix the damned thing, or die trying."

Rose laughed. "Honestly, I don't know how you stand it. Electronics drive me batty. My girls are still trying to get me to update the speakers in the bistro. I haven't put it past them to try and sabotage them to get it done, so I'm keeping a close eye on everything."

"Sounds like a couple of boys that I know."

"They do like to keep you sharp, don't they?"

"Absolutely." Sarah sipped her coffee; it was still too hot to guzzle.

"So, what did you mean when you said that things used to be all right?"

"We have a visitor at the base," Sarah said with a roll of her eyes.

"Really?" Rose asked, grinning like the proverbial cat with the canary. "Who might that be?"

"Someone I hoped I would never have to see again," Sarah said with an edge of bitterness.

"Does this happen to be the mysterious man from your past?" Sarah watched Rose's inner gossip predator emerge, and it sounded excited; like a bored housewife who had just discovered that her neighbour was having an affair, she was firing on all circuits. Sarah glared sideways at her, taking another pull from her mug. "Oh! This is goddamn juicy! Why's he there? Has he professed his undying love? Did you two do the horizontal nasty? Or the vertical nasty, for that matter?"

Sarah had to laugh. She knew that there was a reason she was friends with this woman. Rose looked so matronly and innocent on the outside; then she spoke, and that illusion was shattered beyond repair. She was a cougar in hen's clothing; her small small frame and wiry build hid a loaded gun of a personality that tended to go off when least expected.

"No, Rose. There was no doing of the nasty in any direction. There were no confessions, and I have no idea why he's there. I kind of made an excuse to go into town today to escape the awkwardness."

"Oh, Lil! That's no way to snag your mystery man!"

"I'm not trying to snag him, Rose."

"Details. Now."

"I can't," she said. Rose knew bits about her past that had come up in conversation. She was the first person in town that Sarah had met, and they'd become fast friends. Sarah hadn't told her everything, though, and Rose hadn't asked. Yet. She knew that the time was fast approaching that she would either have to tell Rose the truth, or disappear again. Sarah desperately didn't want to have to start over.

Rose sighed. "Lil, how long have we known each other?"

"Almost seventy years," Sarah responded. She knew where this was headed.

"You know everything there is to know about me. I don't even know your name. Don't look at me like that," she said when she saw Sarah avert her eyes, abashed. "You look like I'm about to drop a bomb on you, babe. Stop worrying. I don't care, really, if I ever know your name. It's enough that I know that, whatever your name is, you're a good person at heart. You take care of things. You take care of people. You took in three boys who don't age, used to be more wild than tame, and who aren't of your blood and love them like a mother, for gods' sake."

"Rose," Sarah started, intending to apologize.

"No. Don't. I may not know who you used to be, or what you are, but I know who you are. You're my Lil, my friend, and that's not going to change because of anything you may or may not tell me."

"Thank you, Rose."

"Now, would you please be a dear and accept a date from one of the twins at the electronics store down the way so they can quit asking me when you're coming back into town? Seriously, they bother the hell out of me whenever they're in. I had to kick the both of them out on their collective arse last time they were around because they wouldn't knock if off!" Sarah laughed at Rose's affronted expression. "What? You need to get laid! All three of you!"

"In fact, Rose, I'm heading over to see Jet and Jack later this afternoon," Sarah said with a grin.

"Good. Let them escort you to the festival at least. Get them off my back."

"Problem with Jet and Jack are that they come as a pair. I don't know if I could handle them," she said with a laugh.

"Bullshit. They wouldn't know what to do with a woman like yourself. There's only half a brain between them sometimes, I swear, and even then, it's in their pants."

"They're smarter than you realize," Sarah said, taking another drink of her coffee. It was finally cooling.

"No, they're intelligent. Smart is a different concept all together," Rose corrected. She topped off her mug and looked back at Sarah. "So, you've managed to distract me from matters at hand. What does your mystery man look like?" she asked with the devious grin of a well-practised cougar.


	12. Chapter 11 Mischief

All standard and blue disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted: 13 August 2009

* * *

The electronics store was a small shop on the edge of downtown that dealt in specialty gadgets; the custom creations were shipped worldwide. Jethro and Jackson Di'shik'de, twin elves born just after the merge, were the owners and proprietors. They had taken to technology like sharks to the oceans. Upon first meeting Sarah, they had taken to her as well, but like sharks that smelled blood in the water.

Sarah entered the shop, and the bell sounded as the door opened. It wasn't a moment before a coal-tar black face popped out from around the door to the warehouse in the back of the store. The face immediately broke out into a wide grin, his pearly teeth splitting the ebony face open.

The figure that emerged was, by human standards, huge. He came running toward her, pushing his silver goggles back into his stark-white, shoulder-length hair to reveal blood-red eyes, crinkled slightly due to his grin.

"Lily!" He lifted her up and spun her around in a breath-stealing hug. She laughed, insomuch as she was able to.

"Hey, Jet. Long time, no see," Sarah greeted as she was finally set down.

"Shit!" she heard as something smashed and glass shards tinkled against concrete; she winced. Not a moment later, another huge black elf came scrambling around the corner, losing his footing and managing only to catch himself against the door frame as he went past. He pulled himself through it and snagged her bodily from his brother, spinning and tossing her in the air effortlessly, and catching her in a hug of his own.

"It's been months, Lily! Why haven't you visited?" His voice was deep and smoky like his brother's, thick with happiness.

"Sorry, Jack," she managed, her face still pressed into his broad, t-shirt-covered chest, muffling her voice. "Been busy." When he finally let her have her feet back, she stepped back with a grin. "What broke?"

"Broke?" Jack looked back to the warehouse. "I smacked my head on a fluorescent lamp in the back."

"The one over the workbench?" Jet asked.

"Yeah..." Jack shied away from his brother as Jet took a playful swing at his thick bicep.

"Damnit, Jack, that's the third ballast that you've destroyed. I'm going to have to replace it again!"

"Sorry, Bro."

"We may as well have stock in General Electric, genius."

"I'll pay for it," Jack offered.

"Damn right you will," griped Jet. Jack looked put out. But only slightly.

"Sorry, guys," Sarah said. "I did kinda come here for a reason."

"Name it," said Jack. His eyes sparkled; she always came here with complicated requests. They liked her challenges.

"Military grade decoding chip for a surveillance satellite."

"One that you're putting up, or is it already there?"

"Already there."

"Still working?"

"I'm getting signal from it, but the encryption would take me months to decipher. The cyphers are crazy."

"Military. It would be."

"Can you do it?" she asked. They grinned lasciviously, flashing rows of sharp teeth like the sharks that they mimicked. She would be terrified if she didn't know them. Still, the twins were not individuals that one would like to meet in a dark alley.

"For a price," Jet said, trying to sound innocent. It didn't work. His voice took on a timbre like sex on a summer night.

"Name it," she said, her voice mimicking and sultry.

"We need to see the code that's being transmitted." Jack leaned up against the counter top, brushing bits of fluorescent light out of his hair, stretching conspicuously as he did so, making the seams on his t-shirt complain as they were pulled taut.

"That would mean that we need to come by and see the receiver." Jet licked his bottom lip, circling her.

"Stop it, both of you," Sarah laughed. "You're distracting."

"Says you," Jet said in his best voice of temptation. "This is completely business."

"And business is definitely our pleasure, and vice-versa, as you know."

Sarah laughed. "So you say. What's the price?"

"Twenty-five hundred base." Twin grins formed.

"Done," she said, without pause. The twins were renowned for the quality and intricacies of their work; they were worth every red cent.

"We'd be willing to settle for a date, though," Jack said seriously. Sarah glanced up at him with a sly smile.

"Is that a fact? With which one of you?" she asked, her smile becoming a grin.

"Come now, you know we come as a pair, Lily." Jet's voice was like silk as he slithered by her, circling slowly."You get one of us, you've got both of us."

"Don't tell me that you don't remember us," Jack said, sounding offended. "Because we certainly remember you."

"Trust the two of you to pull up ancient history," Sarah griped good-naturedly.

"Not so ancient. It wasn't that long ago that we had you in our arms," Jet said. "You're not embarrassed, are you?"

"No. Should I be?"

"You should probably be remorseful," Jack said, raising an eyebrow. "After all, you've ruined us for other women. We will forever have the taste of your kisses on our thoughts and tongues."

Sarah threw her head back, laughing. "You both had better duck. You might get hit with all the bullshit flying about."

"How about this: You're attending the festival tonight, yes?" Jack asked. She nodded. "Let us take you, then, instead of going it alone."

"I won't be alone. The boys and my brother will be there," she said. They immediately employed the pouting lower lips and wobbly eyes. Tilting her head to the side, she smiled, then said, "Yes, I'll go with you to the festival."

"Really?" Jack asked, his eyes lighting up. More dust dislodged from his hair, and he scowled a little. Jet came up from behind her and bent down to hug her, rubbing his cheek against her hair.

"Absolutely," she affirmed. "I'm still paying you for your work."

"You know you don't have to. We owe you a hundred times over, but whatever makes you happy, Lily," Jack said. He looked at his brother, then, quizzically. "Jet?"

"You smell like Fae," he said, nearly making it a question. She looked up at him, craning her neck backward. His handsome face was scrunched, his almond eyes squinted a little.

"Yeah, about that. I have a guest at the base," she said, irritated all over again. "A blast from the past decided to show up." She paused. "'Decided' might be the wrong word. He doesn't seem to have found us deliberately."

"A guest? Why are you hosting a Fae if you obviously don't want him in your home?" Jack asked.

"It would raise too many questions if I did what I normally do with unwanted visitors. He's a little bit high-ranking."

"Who is it, Lily?" Jet's voice, now deeper, echoed through his chest and against her back, raising the tiny hairs on her neck.

"The Goblin King dropped in on our bonfire last night."

"Shit," Jack said, floored. "Bad luck doesn't hit you by half-measures, does it? When it rains on you, it's a goddamn monsoon."

"You're not kidding. Well, at least that's a good reason for not leaving him on the edge of town half-dead. I guess."

"I don't need the Councils breathing down my neck, then determining that I'm some sort of a threat."

"Certainly not; they'd take away our favourite customer!" Jack said with a predatory grin. "As you well know, the rest of the people that we sell to are either geeks, or military personnel. None of them have such tracks of land as you."

"You leave my tracks of land alone. I swear, I'm bringing the leash next time I come by. You two are horrible!" she laughed.

"Promise?" The twins grinned.


	13. Chapter 12 Enter the King

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted 15 August 2009

* * *

Sarah went back to the café to help Rose out until the twins closed up their shop at dusk to fetch her for their date. She chatted amiably with some of the customers that she recognized as she played waitress while Rose served up the plates.

She was busy trying to talk Eddie into switching from chess to backgammon, though she knew he never would, so she didn't immediately notice that she was the subject of observation. Sarah only looked up from her conversation when she heard stoneware shatter loudly from behind the bistro bar.

Rose was standing there with a thunderstruck look on her face, staring unblinkingly at the archway that separated the café and bistro. Sarah followed her line of sight.

Sarah felt her heart jump into her throat, and she tried to swallow it back down. The Goblin King in full regalia, leaning lazily against the archway in the restaurant. He was staring intently at her, ankles crossed and arms folded, smirking slightly.

Sarah debated just playing it off but decided against it based upon the look that Rose was now giving her. She had obviously put it together in her mind, and was going to give part of that mind back to her. Forcefully.

Toby walked in just then, partially defusing a dangerous situation for her as he did. She was spared. Kind of. Her brother, with his infectious grin, took the Goblin King by the shoulder and sat him down at a table in the corner. Most of the patrons who had turned to stare went back to their meals, but the topic of conversation had changed dramatically.

"Hey, Sis. Snag a couple of pints?" She raised her eyebrow. "Please?" he amended with a wheedling chuckle.

"That's better," she said, going up to the bar where Rose was still standing stock still and wide-eyed, watching her. Her expression was stony, despite the shock. Sarah glanced back at the table where the King and her brother sat. Jareth was still staring at her, practically boring a hole in her back with his eyes, and Toby was chattering away merrily. She was sure that she couldn't be heard over her brother as she leaned in to talk to Rose.

"So you're hosting a guest, are you?" she finally hissed at her friend. Sarah winced.

"I may have left out some pertinent information for the sake of brevity..." she tried, under her breath. Rose wasn't having it.

"Brevity my left cheek! I don't believe this--" Rose was getting loud, and she glanced back again. Toby looked like he was about to burst out laughing. It wasn't often that he saw someone bend his sister's ear.

"Rose, I can explain."

"And you will. Go. Bring them their drinks, and make up a couple of plates. That ought to buy you a couple minutes to recover after I brain you with my ladle." She stormed away around the corner and up the stairs to her garden. Sarah grimaced. Rose was in rare form over this one, not that she blamed her. She supposed that her time had come to confess her sins.

She pulled two pints of the house ale, and served up two bread bowls of stew and roast, bringing them over to the table. Toby grinned, tucking in and mumbling, "Thanks!" around a mouthful as he tore into the bread.

Jareth inclined his head with a soft, "Thank you, Lilith." It was more than enough to unnerve her as she nodded, and followed Rose's tracks up the stairs. He watched her walk away with the curious sensation that he knew her from somewhere.

Rose may as well have been on fire when Sarah finally reached the top stair. "The fucking Goblin King, Lilith?! You told me that there was a man in your past, but you neglected to mention that he was a goddamn High King!"

"I'm sorry, Rose."

"You said he was tall, handsome, powerful, and blond, but this is ridiculous!"

"It's all connected, Rose. I couldn't tell you one thing without telling you everything, so now that you know who he is, you may as well hear everything. I just need to know that this goes no further. The twins know that I'm playing hostess to the Goblin King, but they don't know who he is in relation to myself. Can you promise me?"

Rose nodded, still shell-shocked. "You know you have my word, Lil, no matter what."

"Just... Please, hear me out. Once I start this, I'm going to have to get it all out, and I don't know if I'll be able to make myself do this again." Rose nodded, a look of concern pinching her face. "I'm Sarah Williams. I was born twenty-five years before the merge. When I was fifteen, I wished that the goblins would come and take my baby brother away. They did take him, and I immediately regretted it.

"The Goblin King came to me, and offered me my dreams if I would just forget about Toby. I couldn't take them. He challenged me to run his Labyrinth in thirteen hours, and I conquered it in under eleven. I reached the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, and thereby, won. I didn't know it.

"I went into the castle, and found them both in a room of stairs." Rose's face was pale as she listened, speechless, realizing just who her friend was. Sarah couldn't look at her.

"He offered me my dreams again. I didn't know that my brother wasn't on the line anymore. I was too young to realize what was really on offer. I destroyed him, in my own way with just a few words.

"He wanted me to fear him, love him, he said," she choked, "and he would be my slave. I told him that he had no power over me, and the world literally fell to pieces."

"He didn't have to ask that of you, did he?" Rose asked. "He already had your fear, and your love." Sarah nodded.

"I've been hiding ever since the merge, Rose. I don't really look like this either. It's kind of a glamour... A female version of my brother. I couldn't let him find me, you see? He never would have let me go. He would've moved the stars to find me once the worlds merged."

"Why hasn't he, Lil?" Sarah stopped and looked at her friend; she had never considered it. She shook her head, her expression that of extreme confusion. Rose sighed. "All this time, and you never thought about it?"

"No," she said softly. "We ran for so long before we found this place, I didn't want to hex myself by assuming anything, so I didn't think about it."

"He was in love with you, Lil. No man gives up that easily without a reason, especially not on a woman like you."

"Dean..." she started, disbelieving. "Dean said that he remembered the King crying... That he was looking at a crystal, and started crying. That whatever it was that he was watching broke him. This doesn't make sense."

"Why would Dean know this?" Rose was confused.

"The reason the boys are like they are is that they had been wished away. They were in the Labyrinth when the worlds merged. My brother and I figure-- and I'm not sure if this is right or not-- that because they were exposed to magic for a period of time before everything went to pot, they're more than human, kind of like us."

Rose was quiet for a moment or two, digesting all the information. "Where did you get that scar, Lil?" The question came hesitantly.

Sarah froze, paling as she put the time line together in her mind. "My brother and I died in a car crash on the day of the merge. When we woke up, we had changed, and the world was as it is now."

"Maybe he thinks that you're still dead."

"I can't do this. I don't have time to have a nervous breakdown. Not when the King of the Goblins is downstairs talking to my brother!" She stopped. "What time is it?"

"Almost six."

"Sundown. Shit, the twins will be here to pick me up."

"The twins?!" Rose's eyes widened. "They finally got you to agree to go out with them? I thought this day would never come!"

"They're not that bad, Rose."

"How would you know? My daughter had a crush on them--" Rose stopped as Sarah tried in vain to conceal a sheepish look. "No. You didn't." Her jaw had dropped. "You're the reincarnated Lady of the Labyrinth from over two hundred years ago. The Goblin King was in love with you. You've been with the twins... At some point; gods know why..."

"They're hot. They were willing. And they were," she paused for effect, "really, really good."

"Are you trying to kill me?!" she shouted in disbelief. "If you're trying to give me a stroke, you should tell me that you're the source of the beast of black sand, too."

Sarah winced, and tried again for a sheepish smile.


	14. Chapter 13 Fending

All standard and extended disclaimers apply. ** Sorry, short chapter. I wanted to get this little bit up before I came back from vacation. **

Originally Posted: 18 August 2009

* * *

Sarah left Rose upstairs, at her request, to try and reorganize her brain to accommodate all the new information. She stole away to the back bedrooms to change into a simple, sleeveless black dress with a high collar that Rose had given her on permanent loan before she went back downstairs, trying to steel herself against the stare that she knew she could expect.

What greeted her, instead, when she reached the bottom of the stairs, was certainly a sight to behold. The twins had arrived, both in pressed long-sleeved button-downs, dark jeans, and shoes that looked like they cost more than half the town's pay for a month.

They were sitting at the same table as Jareth and Toby, chatting amiably to all outward appearances. The Goblin King seemed to be listening politely; Sarah, however, noticed the tension reflected in the line of the Goblin King's face. The twins' eyes looked slightly pinched as well upon second glance.

The Goblin King was the first one to notice that she had re-entered the room, but Toby was the first to rise and greet her back.

"How's Rose taking it?" he asked as he hugged her, lowly enough that no one was the wiser.

"She'll be fine. She knows."

"I'll leave the boys here to you. I'm going to go make sure she's okay. I am dating her granddaughter, after all."

Sarah watched more or less helplessly as Toby glanced back and nodded at the table full of trouble behind him, and went up to find Rose. Sarah turned back to the table, trying to steel herself for whatever was coming.

"You look gorgeous, my dear," Jet said as he rose and took her hands, brushing a kiss against her left cheek. Jack stood up and mirrored the action on her right cheek. The glare that the twins received from the still-seated King would've set them on fire, had they been flammable.

Jack held the chair for her and she took a seat. The twins followed suit with shark-like grins on their faces. She looked over at the Goblin King. When he realized that he was looking at her, he released his steely gaze from the twins.

"Good evening, Jack, Jet," she said, still watching the Goblin King. She wasn't sure, yet, what to make of him. "Goblin King," she said, finally.

"Good evening, Lady. Are these your rogues?" Said rogues grinned.

"For tonight, in a matter of speaking, yes, I guess we are," Jet supplied. Sarah frowned at Jet, missing the Goblin King's look of disappointment.

"They're escorting me to the festival. Platonically," she clarified.

"Hey, that wasn't part of the deal!" It was Jack's turn to look disappointed. Sarah laughed.

"It wasn't part of the deal to be anything except a platonic outing."

"Will you let us try to convince you otherwise?" Jack's grin was predatory.

"That's no way to treat a lady," Jareth admonished. "The manipulation has to be much more subtle than that if you're going to get your way."

"Please, they don't need any tips to help them along," Sarah sighed. "They're enough trouble on their own." Jareth smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"So," he said, diverting the conversation. "Tell me about the festival tonight. How do you celebrate? Or, mourn, as it were?"

Sarah grimaced, but started: "Officially, they're calling it the Anniversary of Synthesis, rather than just 'the merge.' Synthesis suggests that both worlds are better for having merged, because they use the strengths of the other world to fill in the weaknesses and complement their own strengths; that two worlds synthesized are more than the sum of the two worlds separately.

"The torches along the streets will be lit mid-twilight. The mayor will probably make a speech near the fountain in the center of downtown. Everyone will spend the next couple of hours writing messages and wishes on parchment, then folding it up into a balloon. Bonfires are lit in pits north, south, east, and west of the fountain.

"The night is spent sharing food, drink, music, and telling stories. At the night's end, candles are lit and paper balloons are sent skyward."

"I do believe that's the most I've heard you speak in two days," Jareth commented.

"You're being agreeable. I figured that if you were genuinely curious, I would indulge you," she said flippantly.

"I was genuinely curious. In the Goblin City, they do it differently," he said lowly, in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Really?" Jack asked.

"Yes. For the more intelligent of my denizens, a feast is held. The common goblins usually end up stone drunk and are useless for the rest of the week. Although, that's their usual method of celebration."

"Maybe next year, you and Jet could join in," Sarah said to Jack. Jack laughed in response.

"We'd wipe out a year's supply of their alcohol."

"You'd be surprised how much damage goblin ale can cause. It's powerful stuff in its own right. I'd have to liken its taste to napalm," Jareth said with a grimace of remembrance. That taste brought up memories of Sarah's death.

"How do you know what napalm is, let alone what it tastes like?" Sarah called out.

"I'm not as naïve regarding human warfare as you seem to think I am, despite your knowledge of me, Lady. Goblin ale, like napalm, burns like fire all the way down. No amount of water can douse the flame. It's got to burn itself out." Despite herself, she smiled, imagining the King trying some of the stuff and having a coughing fit directly afterward.

Jareth didn't smile, though. "I was soused for nearly a month straight on the stuff," he admitted.

"Why on earth did you do that?" Sarah asked in the same moment as the twins asking, "How much did that take?" Jareth blinked in response.

"I'd rather not say why, but rather that it was a long time ago, now. And it took quite a bit." Something flickered in his expression; whatever had caused him to need to be drunk for a month solid was the same thing that kept him up nights. Whatever it was had to be the answer that Sarah was looking for. Did the Goblin King think that she was dead?

She wasn't left long to ponder the question. Toby rounded the corner from the stairway with Rose in tow not a moment later. His grin was wide as he saw the four at the table seeming to be playing nicely. "Come on. The sun has set, and they're lighting the torches."


	15. Chapter 14 Old Friends

All standard disclaimers apply. Sorry for the long update time... Pokémon attacked me.

Originally Posted: 10 September 2009

* * *

Sarah was led out into the chilly evening, a twin on each arm. Jareth and Toby followed them out, Jareth leaning over to ask Toby softly, "Who are the elves that your sister is with?"

"They're our local technology jockeys. Jack and Jet own the electronics store here in town, but they do big business, so I understand, just about everywhere else."

"Wait," Jareth said under his breath, hanging back further so as not to be overheard by said elves. There was something familiar to him about the elves. "What is their family name?"

"Di'shik'de."

"You're letting your sister cavort with arms dealers?" he hissed, his breath misting in the chilled air. Toby glanced at his sister, who had tilted her head ever so slightly; she had heard him. If the twins had noticed, they were ignoring it, intent on enjoying their night out.

"Oh," Toby said, nonplussed. "You know of them, then."

"Of course! I dealt with the Di'shik'de just after the merge."

"Actually, it's not just weapons they sell," Sarah supplied without turning back.

"Of course not. We've diversified," Jet said with a grin tossed over his shoulder, his white hair glowing eerily in the torchlight. "We also deal in high-end surveillance, medical equipment, and we hold the patents for the devices that transmute magic into electricity without destroying the devices that it's fed into."

"My sister is actually the reason that we were able to figure that one out. She's the reason that beings that can direct magic can directly generate electricity," Toby said proudly. "We were able to save quite a few people with that one, and generally get things going again."

There was pandemonium after the worlds merged, and Sarah had moved from city to city, trying to find her place. Along the way, she'd teamed up with some of the best remaining minds in the world, the Di'shik'de clan among them, and under the guise of Lilith and Sam, she and her brother had helped developed the technology to restore the way of life the Aboveground had gotten used to.

Magically talented humans could direct their personal flow of magic into huge turbine-like devices made of a silver alloy which converted the magic into electricity for general use. All-in-all, it was like donating blood, and those who assisted were reimbursed quite well.

When the humans settled their dealings with the Fae Lords and congealed into councils, she excused herself, and continued on in search of her place in the world. By that point, Toby had lost his first love, and while it pained them both greatly, they needed the change in scenery. It wasn't until years and years later that she and Toby had found the valley, the base, and the boys. Sarah felt like she had come home for the first time in a hundred years.

People were resettling into their lives, and the uprisings against the new governance dwindled to nearly nothing. Sarah and Toby were forgotten for who they were and what they had done; they preferred it that way.

Then the Goblin King found them, and Sarah found herself wanting to explain herself to him, if only to take the pain from his eyes.

"Besides," reasoned Jet a moment later, "it's much easier to do things under the guise of legality. That way, we don't attract the attention of persons such as yourself for our shadier dealings."

"The rest of the family is actually coming around to our way of doing business. They find that it gets fewer people killed," Jack said, matter-of-factly.

"Yeah. Guts and gore are more suited to video games than to business. Kill too many people, and who's left to buy the product?" Sarah smiled; Jet certainly had a way of putting issues in perspective.

"We've taken care to keep our dealings small. Even if we don't sell our wares, people will always find a way to kill one another. We cannot, do not, and have never dealt bulk, nor in weapons of mass death and destruction. We only sell the safeguards against them."

Jareth nodded; he'd actually dealt with the Di'shik'de after the merge because they'd been the only ones to deal in hybrid weapons that didn't simply crumble against the initial steel and iron bombardment that followed the merge. He'd never met face-to-face with them, but having worked with them, he knew that they were on the line, despite certain odd tendencies.

Jareth watched as the three-in-arms went on ahead. One of the twins offered the woman between them a blue winter flower, and she smiled, tucking it behind her ear.

The torchlight along the street reflected strange moving shadows off of her dress as they passed other people walked on.

"I have the strangest sensation, Sam," Jareth said, watching Sarah.

"Hm?" Toby responded, noncommittally.

"That I know you and your sister," he said, trailing off as they continued their walk to the center of town.

Anthony Broholm, the mayor of the town, stood tall in his elven finery on a platform situated just to the north of the fountain. There were bonfires starting to catch and spark and spit and glow on the streets looking in all four directions, and the shadows danced wildly against the buildings and cobblestones.

"Merry met, everyone," he called out jovially, the firelight making his dark eyes sparkle. "I'm glad everyone could make it out despite the chill, and I hope you've all bundled up warmly." There were a few chuckles from the small crowd as he continued. "Here's to the passing of another year of growth. Hopefully this past year has enriched already happy lives, and brought light and life to you and your families.

"We gather tonight to commemorate the Anniversary of Synthesis; the merge of the worlds destroyed so much, but created the potential for so much more." He stopped as he looked over the crowd, and his gaze settled on Jareth. "Oh, my word. We have a guest amongst us. Good evening, King Jareth."

Jareth suppressed a heavy sigh as everyone turned to look at him, somewhat in awe. Toby stifled a chuckle as he looked up at Jareth. The grimace was unmistakable behind his smile as Jareth nodded. "Would you like to offer a few words to mark the occasion, Your Majesty?"

"Of course, Mayor Broholm," he said as he ascended the staircase to light applause, and made himself heard. "Merry met," he said with his best political smile, flashing sharp teeth. "This anniversary falls on a gorgeous, if somewhat chilly, evening." He let his eyes roam the group slowly, his gaze settling on Sarah, who was standing next to Jet and Jack. She was staring back at him like she'd never seen him before, her brow furrowed, eyes flashing in the firelight.

"I'm not going to regale you with wit or belabour the point that, if you're standing here today, you're truly a person blessed. The merge gifted both worlds with so much good as to be immeasurable, and that should be celebrated." He sighed then, and levelled his gaze off into the crowd, settling again on Sarah alone.

"I hope we will never, however, be able to forget such loss as it caused when the worlds collided. Good people were unfairly stolen from both worlds that night. Innocent lives were destroyed. We must never forget that it was grief, first and foremost, that united us. Honor the dead and lost by remembering them this night, and wish them the peace which is duly-deserved. Honor those who are still with us by showing them that you love them so that you may never know the regret that silence brings." He lowered his eyes. "Merry met, and blessed be," the Goblin King said softly as he started to descend from center stage to applause which was more lively than that which he had ascended to.

Toby caught his sister's eye with a slight smile, and raised eyebrows. She held the regret that the king had spoken of, and he knew it.

"How dare you talk about loss and people being stolen from us, Goblin King," came a voice from the crowd.

Gasps issued as the speaker pushed his way to the front of the gathered group. Sarah recognized him almost immediately as he elbowed his way by her. Harlan Sisk's eyes flashed in the firelight which silhouetted the King and Mayor, who were still standing on the stage. She saw the King stiffen his stance and his face hardened.

"I only took that which was unwanted and offered, Runner," said the Goblin King, recognizing the man immediately.

"I never finished my race, Goblin King. I want my sons back, goddamn it!"

"You had thirteen hours--"

"The worlds merged after only five hours! I never finished!"

"The worlds merged, and you still had time left. The challenge was forfeited. You never made it to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. You never even made it to the forests."

"That's completely unfair!" Pain flashed in the King's eyes and he narrowed his gaze, baring his teeth in a snarl.

"I wonder what your basis for comparison is," replied the King cruelly, unintentionally setting himself back to that terrible night. Tears brimmed unnoticed in his eyes as he watched Sarah die over and over in his mind, unable to leave the Labyrinth because of the man whose children were wished away.

"Where are my sons?!" he screamed, his eyes wild.

"The challenge was forfeited," the Goblin King repeated, fire sparking in his veins as he trembled with repressed anger. "They are no longer yours to call."

"So help me god, I will rain hell down upon you if you do not give them back, Goblin King!" he yelled as he lunged forward, intending to leap up onto the platform. He was hauled back bodily by an ever-vigilant Toby as Jareth's magic flared and slashed at the platform where the man stood only moments before. Bits of seasoned wood fell away as if it were never attached.

"You don't want to do this," Toby said, pushing Harlan back against the crowd. He lost his footing and dropped to the cobblestones. "Especially in front of the whole town."

"Sam is right," Harlan heard as Jet hauled him back to his feet. Confronted by nearly thirty stone of solid muscle, Harlan had no choice but to retreat, glaring over his shoulder as he ran off.

"I apologize," said Jareth suddenly, looking up at Mayor Broholm. "I should not have lost my temper, as I am a guest in your home."

"No apologies necessary, King Jareth. Our resident lunatic was the one who tried to attack you unprovoked." Jareth grimaced, but nodded, bowing out as gracefully as he could.

"Thank you for your help," he smiled down at Toby and Jet, then continued. "Let's not let this untoward soul disturb our time of remembrance," the mayor said, accepting back the stage from the King with a wary smile. "Take your time and write down your messages. If you need help folding them into balloons, we have a couple of resident experts in origami who can help out. We'll be releasing them into the sky at about ten. Candles and parchment are off to the side if you need them. Thank you again, King Jareth, for your words."


	16. Chapter 15 Dance, Dance

All standard disclaimers apply. For those of you who haven't figured it out yet, " to '**trip the light fantastic**' is to dance nimbly or lightly, or to move in a pattern to musical accompaniment."

_ Before you can say come, and goe,  
And breathe twice; and cry, so, so:__  
Each one tripping on his Toe,__  
Will be here with mop, and mowe.  
__ --"The Tempest" by __William Shakespeare _

Originally Posted: 24 September 2009

* * *

"May we have this dance, lovely, mysterious Lady?" Jet asked, dropping down to one knee, a playful smile on his face as the band started up. Sarah laughed and held out her hands.

Toby smiled as he watched his sister get pulled into a deep dip, then spun back to her feet. Jareth watched her dance with the elves, an unexplained pang of envy striking at the heart of him. She made dancing a dance somewhere between a foxtrot and a tango with two partners look natural as she tripped along with them, her feet moving as lightly as air.

Rose had reappeared after the mayor had finished off his speech, and was helping some of the younger children to fold their balloons, keeping a surreptitious eye on the elves as they cavorted with Sarah, and the Goblin King as he watched them. She looked up warily as Toby left the King to his own devices to come over to her. Jareth was immediately inundated with female admirers begging for a dance. He looked lost.

"Hey, Rose. Teaching the great-grandchildren?" She narrowed a glare at him, and he laughed.

"I'd better not have great-grandchildren on the way, Sam." Toby grinned. He knew that Rose was protective of her children, -- all of them-- and he was automatically suspect when it came to his dating her eldest grand-daughter.

"Speaking of your lovely grand-daughters, where's September at tonight?"

"September is running the tables until Vianne gets back."

"Beautiful! A captive audience!" he chuckled. Rose shook her head, shooing him away.

"You'd better be treating her right, boy, or I'll have your head on a pike to decorate my café."

"I'll have you know I treat September like the queen that she is."

Rose nodded her approval. "I know you do. You just keep on doing that, and we'll be square."

"Can I call you Grandma?" Toby asked in a serious tone of voice, a grin belying his joke.

"No," she said dryly. "On your way, damnit. Stop bothering me," Rose said, trying not to laugh. He trotted away to the café to find his lady, and Rose resumed her critical gaze aimed at her friend, and the elves, and the Goblin King, awaiting the fireworks which were sure to erupt.

The evening was wearing down, and after more than a few lively dances, Sarah begged off. The twins went in search of new partners with her blessing. The mischievous grins were identical as they set their sights on Rose. Her eyes widened and she tried to run.

Sarah smiled after the twins as they caught up easily and proceeded to take Rose for the ride of her life, spinning and dipping her until she was dizzy with laughter. Toby had found his lady, and they were off in a corner in each other's arms. Toby held September close as they trotted along, laughing as Rose howled past them in the arms of the elves.

Sarah chuckled as she leaned against the fountain which spat as it splashed, glowing with the firelight that it caught. The joy and tears spreading around were infectious as the residents shared treasured tales of loved ones long passed and wrote down their wishes to the dead.

Sarah nearly jumped as she felt a buzz of power that started at the base of her brain and screamed along her nerves; it could only be Jareth. He stood there for a long while, working some kind of magic. She revelled silently, just let the waves of him wash over her before she finally spoke up.

"Come lean with me, unless you plan on staring at my butt for the remainder of the evening." She held back a grin at his expense as he stepped forward and leaned against the cement railing overlooking the fountain. To his credit, he didn't bat an eyelash at having been caught. She pushed the sensation that he created to the back of her mind as he leaned in close to her, not quite touching. His eyes burned against her skin as he scrutinized her face.

"Enjoying your evening?" he asked finally, not commenting on the fact that he had been watching her.

She flashed him a grin and nodded as she looked down into the water as it swirled and eddied. "How about yourself? Enjoying the break from your duties?"

"Yes, actually, although I could have done without being outed to the town. I would have preferred anonymity for the duration. The women," he gestured to a pack of ladies staring enviously from the other side of the town center, "have not let me alone since the mayor pulled me up on the stage."

Sarah laughed. "Yes, I can see where that would be irritating," she said, making fun of him a little. He narrowed his eyes at her in a glare. They watched as Rose scolded Jet, making it clear that she would be the proud owner of one of his wandering hands after mounting it on the wall in her café if he tried to grab her ass again. Sarah snorted a laugh.

"You say you've been in this area for seventy years?" he asked out of the blue.

"About that, yes."

"You like these people, don't you?"

"Yeah," she conceded after a moment. "At least, they haven't tried to kill me or burn me as a witch, if that counts for anything."

"Others have tried?" he asked, obviously surprised.

Sarah nodded, her face schooled into grim lines. "Tried, nothing! I was tied to the damn stake and they lit the sucker up." She huffed a breath. "I was terrified."

"Rightly so," he agreed. "What happened?"

"Well," she started, glancing to the side at him, "I found out that I couldn't burn. Then I found out that I couldn't drown. And, well, it's a little pointless trying to dismember sand, though they tried that, too." She sighed. "We did the only other thing we could. We escaped, and we ran. For almost a hundred years, we ran."

"Where was this?" he asked, curious despite his horror.

"New York, somewhere. It was right after the merge, and people were terrified of things that they perceived didn't come from the Aboveground. They thought that Sam and I caused the merge. I don't think we did, though, but I can't be sure."

She saw that Jareth had fixed his mismatched eyes on her, studying her. "This world can be cruel," he said finally, softly.

She smiled, self-depreciatingly. "So can I, should the need arise."

"Why are you not dancing with your elves?" he asked suddenly, breaking the string of conversation.

"You're certainly full of questions tonight."

He shrugged. "There is much that I don't know," he conceded. "About this world; about you and your brother; about the wolves that you keep company with. These questions plague my mind for some reason. I feel as if I should know you." He looked up, considering her for a moment. "It's been very strange for me these last two days."

The band announced that the last song would be a slow one, and Sarah smiled, remembering the last -- the only -- time that she had danced with the Goblin King. That night, to this very day, still plagued her dreams.

"Come dance with me," Sarah said suddenly, whimsy striking her soundly. Surprise echoed throughout Jareth, and the ladies watching from across the center fidgeted as she took his gloved hand in her own.

Curiosity flooded him as she slipped her hand into his and took a firm hold, booking no arguments as she watched him. She was practically daring him to refuse her. "As the Lady commands," he acceded, flashing sharp white teeth as he gripped her hand gently. He rose up with all the grace befitting the king that he was, and followed her lead to the dance floor. They walked past the group of women on the other side of the square ignoring the envious glances that were shot Sarah's way.

"It's been a very long time since I've danced with anyone," he said as he gingerly laid his other hand on her upper hip and he started off, leading her in a slow box step around the floor. "Please forgive me if I'm a bit rusty." She ignored the gasps from around her, and the amused chuckle she heard from her brother.

"Perhaps we danced together in a past life, Goblin King," she offered. "You're doing wonderfully."

"If so, it was a very long time ago," he said with a small grin.

"Indeed," she said with a smile. "Is someone feeling his age recently?" she teased.

"Something like that. It's hardly fair," he argued, "that you know so much of me, and I know hardly anything about you or your brother. I don't even know your names."

The Goblin King complaining about the unfairness of it all tickled her, and she smiled, but refrained from commenting, instead staring at the moon-shaped pendant that was just below her eye level. "You're assuming an awful lot, aren't you?" Sarah asked as they stepped past Rose and the elves, who were winding down a little. "You assume that I don't know that Sam already told you more than he should have."

"Sam told me that you are known as Lilith. That's not much."

"You know where we live. You know what we are--"

"Hardly," he interjected, sounding irritated. If he had intended to cut her off, it didn't work; she continued without pause as if he hadn't interrupted.

"You know what we can do," she said quietly. "I know that I wouldn't be at all worried for my home and our lives had I not stopped Sam from crushing you to death."

"He could not have done that," he said, trying to sound sure of himself. She raised her eyebrows.

"Hope that we never have to find out," she said without inflection. He spun her without warning, and recaptured her, pressing her smaller form into the line of his body, back to front, his long arms encircling her and barring an easy escape. His hot breath ghosted across her cheek, brushing along her ear and she fought a shudder.

"I don't respond well to threats," he warned softly, his power tingling along her nerves as it had when he was standing next to her at the fountain just a moment ago.

"You're leaking magic like a sieve, Goblin King. You've just given every sensitive in this town a headrush. This is not the place for grandstanding, so I'll ask you -- once, politely -- to rein it in. I will not get into a pissing contest with you in public."

He blinked. "You can feel that?" the Goblin King asked, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smirk.

"I can taste it, goddamnit; now cut it out." She felt the power retreat, but it still hummed in the background of her brain. She spun back around in his arms. "I'll thank you not to try and show me up again in mixed company."

"What do I taste like?" he asked, his smirk widening to a grin, ignoring her comment.

She rolled her eyes. "Champagne and peaches; sweet and ticklish."

"I was hoping for swords and fire."

"You would hope that, wouldn't you?"

The dance ended without further incident, and suddenly, Mayor Broholm was back on the platform, carefully sidestepping the damage done earlier by the Goblin King. Everyone had gotten on with their evening, and hadn't concerned themselves with the lone town nutcase.

"I'd like to thank everyone who could make it out tonight to help with our celebration and remembrance of the lost," he said sombrely. Sarah extricated herself from the arms of the Goblin King and stepped away quietly to an alley nearby.

"Cherish that which we still have, and honour the memory of those who have gone before. May the dearly departed receive our thoughts and wishes this night, the anniversary of Synthesis, and look down upon us in kindness," he said formally, regally. "Light your candles, lift your wishes to the heavens, and let the wind take them."

As a hundred candles warmed, Sarah let the sand take over, and she became again unrecognisable. Eyes turned heavenward, following the slow rise of the glowing balloons of paper, and Sarah took to the sky herself.

A soft wind started up and a rumble of thunder echoed above. The people below clutched their clothes tighter around themselves against the cold, their eyes fixed on the smoky blackened sky.

Sarah swept the paper balloons up in a cyclone, their flames flickering brighter and lighting them afire as they took off to sounds of awe and gasps from the people below.

Jareth watched the flames flare, consuming the paper and ink. The beast of black sand swept the still-glowing ashes and embers into a spiral, shooting them skyward. He watched the sky until all he could see was the fire of the stars. Tears brimming but not falling, he drew a shuddering breath. He sighed sadly, and the sound was taken away on the winds as he remembered the last time he shared a dance. "Sarah."


	17. Chapter 16 Laid Bare

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted: 30 September 2009

* * *

Sarah reconstructed and righted herself, assuming the appearance of Lilith once again, flat black eyes absorbing the dying firelight as she stepped back out into the square, unnoticed by all except the sharp eyes of the Goblin King. The tents were closing up, and the crowds were dispersing after a final showing of fireworks which Sarah had played amongst in the sky to brighten her mood.

"I'm headed home, boys," she said as she walked up to the twins who had just seen Rose back off to her café. Toby and September had already turned in for the evening, and the trio were already yapping and growling at one another in the forest, halfway home. The Goblin King had finally resorted to shifting into his avian form and sat perched on the corner of Rose's café like a gargoyle with feathers.

"What? You're not leaving yet, are you?"

"Certainly not! There's so much we have yet to do tonight, Lil!" Jack said, raising his eyebrows suggestively, the stark white predator's grin splitting his face.

"You forget, I've seen all you have to show me, gentlemen. I appreciate the offer, but I'll be heading back home now." Twin expressions of dismay attacked her. The kicked puppy expression on huge black elves begging for the proverbial bone made her smile.

"Might we at least offer to walk you home?" Jet asked, aiming for chivalry. He only achieved as much honor as an indecent proposal.

"We could take a look at your... satellite problem," Jack offered, making it clear that he wasn't talking technology.

Sarah laughed. "Like I said, I appreciate the offer, but I'll be seeing you in the next day or so anyway, right? To look at my... satellite?" Jet chuffed a throaty laugh.

"It's been a while since we've had the honour of an invitation to your home." Jet practically vibrated with excitement at the prospect. Sometimes, she didn't know which the twins, Jet especially, liked more; trying to get into her bed, or trying to get into her stash of gadgets-to-be-fixed.

"I suppose so, but I can't very easily bring the satellite's control module over here. It weighs too much, and is connected to practically everything at the base. You'll see. Eventually."

"I can't wait," said Jet, a gleam in his eye that went beyond sex and into technology. Sarah was sure that there was a wet dream or two in there about capacitors capaciting and resistors resisting. He snapped back to his senses after only a moment's lapse. "It really doesn't sit well with us to see you escorting yourself home through the miles and miles of forest at night, though. The beast of black sand may ambush you. Are you sure you don't want some company?" Sarah barked a laugh, catching even herself by surprise.

"I don't live that far, Jack! It's only a couple miles at the most. And I've lived in those woods for years. I've never been attacked by beast nor brethren. The mosquitoes in the summer, though, are the size of pterodactyls. Those, I'm in danger from." Again, the twin sighs of dismay. "And I'm not walking home alone, persay." She glanced up to the roof of the café, her eyes easily locating the barn owl with its unblinking gaze settled on her. The twins' red eyes followed the same trajectory and saw the owl as it seemed to hunker over.

Jack laughed, a deep rumbling sound, as he pulled Sarah into his arms. "A kiss to see you on your way, then, mysterious Lady?" He leaned in close. "At least to make your King jealous?"

Sarah threw her head back and laughed, the sound pure amusement. "Very well, good sirs. A kiss for the gentlemen who kept me this evening." She wound her hand around Jack's neck, pulling him down for a soft brush of lips.

Sarah suddenly found herself in the other twin's arms, bent backward in a dip, his sharp teeth softly nipping her neck. It tickled her, and she laughed and righted herself, brushing her lips against Jet's. "Damn. I thought I had you there," he said, breathing a little bit heavier than he should have been.

She shook her head, amused as Jack smacked Jet's arm for the liberty that he had taken. Jet rubbed the offended area, but his grin never left his face. "You're just mad that you hadn't thought to do that first," Jet said, only somewhat sourly.

"I'll take my leave now, gentlemen. When's a good time for you to make a base-house call?"

"Any time in the next couple days. We're closing to finish up some projects of our own, and out of respect for the Equinox holidays. You've got our number, yes?"

"Yes, I do, but I'll have to send Frog out to lead you to my place. Don't try to ride him, okay?"

"Afraid we'll get lost?" Jet asked challengingly as Jack just nodded.

"I'm not afraid of you getting lost. I just know that you will. The forest around where I live has a way of turning you around."

"Very well," Jet said, backing down with a smile. "Good night, Lady Lilith. Be careful."

She was enveloped by over thirty-five stone of dark elf as the twins hugged her simultaneously. Just as suddenly, she was suddenly slammed by the Goblin King's power. Sarah felt Jack and Jet bristle, then let her go slowly. They turned to see the King staring them down impatiently, a cascade of glittery remnants falling regally down around his boots, and unless she missed her mark completely, a hint of repressed jealousy was becoming resident in his expression.

Sarah stepped away, her curled hair spilling like sunlight down over her shoulders as she pulled out the pins holding it in place.

"Good night, Jack, Jet." She walked past the Goblin King purposefully, stepping lightly over the intermittent cobblestones as the road led out into the forest.

"Take care of her," Jack said, looking at the Goblin King. Usually the playful one, Jackson's voice has gone cold, and it stopped the King from turning away from the elves; he had heard his death in that warning. Jethro was standing half a pace behind his brother, his blood-red eyes flashing though there was no more firelight to reflect.

"On my honour and my life, she will come to no intentional harm from me or mine, and will be protected as my own until the moment that I am dust," he spoke, incanting the oath as he pulled off his glove, folding it and putting it in the breast pocket of his jacket, and offered his hand to the elves. They seemed satisfied with that; they shook the Goblin King's hand in turn, nodding.

Without another word, Jareth turned on his heel and followed after his hostess, not quite all-out running.

Jareth caught up to Sarah easily with his long stride, then matched his pace to hers. She was walking more leisurely than he would have thought. She didn't appear to notice his presence; even when he finally spoke, she didn't seem surprised to find him there.

"Are you not anxious to be back home?" he asked, his breathing deep and even despite his short sprint.

"I've got all the time in the world, Goblin King. I'm not anxious to be anywhere." He considered for a moment, then nodded.

"It must be nice," he said softly, "not to have to worry about things at home."

"It is," she said with a half-smile, locking her fingers behind her head as she looked up at the starry night sky.

He looked at her in wonder. "How is it that you keep yourself from thoughts of home and duty?"

"Don't get me wrong," she started, leaning her head to the side slightly to look up at him. "I do worry. My grandmother used to have a framed plaque on the wall in the kitchen. It said, 'Grant me the grace to accept with serenity the things that I cannot change, the courage to change the things which should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish one from the other.' I grew up looking at that plaque every time that I went into her kitchen and sat at the kitchen table. She smiled, remembering the smell of frying breakfast, the warm buttery taste of fresh poundcake dipped in milky coffee, and the weight of the old spoon on her tongue as she scooped out the pieces of cake that fell apart into her drink.

"Wise words, well spoken," he said, looking down as a soft bark of laughter escaped him. "I should take them to heart. Unfortunately, it's slightly complicated when you've effectively got the concerns of the world that you rule on your shoulders."

They were quiet for a time as they walked along the river branch. Sarah tried to ignore the tingle and the smell of his magic as it brushed against her again and again. She unlaced her fingers finally, wrapping them around herself and rubbing her bare arms briefly to try and rid them of the disconcerting feel of him.

He glanced over as she did this, and misinterpreted her motion. It took him only a moment to drape his jacket, still warm from his body, over her shoulders and around her, destroying her efforts to keep the frisson of magic at she was not cold, she gave pause and looked over at him. "Thank you," she said, drawing the jacket tighter around her as she restarted her ginger pace.

"You're welcome," he said, watching his boots as he walked in the pale glow of the cloud-covered moon.

"For as impromptu as was, your speech was moving," she stated after a while. He looked up out of the corner of his eye as he nodded.

"I'm still in good practice," he said, turning his gaze to the tree line on the horizon ahead.

"You didn't mean it, then?" she asked.

"I meant every word," he said quietly.

"You hold the regret that you spoke of, then, Goblin King?" Sarah knew that she was opening the proverbial Pandora's Box with her question, but she found that she had to know if Jareth truly thought her dead. The question had been bothering her since Rose brought it up that afternoon, and the anxiety did not sit well with her; not with the Goblin King staying so close at hand.

Jareth's eyes were downcast again as he replied so quietly that she almost missed it. "I do hold that regret."

"Who did you lose?"

"A girl was taken from me," he said, sounding pained, rusty. "A girl that I thought that I could not bear to lose." Sarah's heart felt like it had skipped a beat, and butterflies churned wildly in her gut.

"You said you were drunk on goblin ale for a month straight," she recalled to her horror. He nodded.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's as raw tonight as it was back then, this pain," he said with a heart-wrenching smile.

Sarah felt herself waver, but forced herself forward. "Who was this girl, Goblin King?"

"She trounced me soundly, then brought my world crashing down around me. She won back that which was taken," he said, then paused. "The girl that I lost was the girl that I was in love with. She died before I could tell her." They had stopped walking, and he was staring at her intently. Sarah couldn't help but look straight back at him, her heart in her throat as she listened. "Her name was Sarah."


	18. Chapter 17 Threaten

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted: 06 October 2009

* * *

"Sarah?" she breathed, sure that her heart had stopped. Jareth, the Goblin King, who thought she was dead, was still painfully in love with her. Or the memory of herself. Jareth nodded. Her paradigm had shifted once again, and this time, she wasn't sure that she'd be able to reconcile her old self with the new one that she found emerging.

"She died," the King said, "and there wasn't a damned thing that I could do to stop it." He whispered through clenched teeth as he stared intently at his boots.

"You tried to stop it?"

"Of course I tried! I can move the stars. I can reorder time," he looked back up at her as they slowly started moving again, walking against the flow of the river branch. "Even with all my power and ability, events before the merge are lost to me, though, and I was bound to the Labyrinth during the merge because of a damned runner," he hissed.

Her brain felt like it was starting to sizzle as it made the connections. The madman that had tried to accost her at the grocer earlier that day was the same man that had demanded his sons back at the celebration after the King's speech. The crazed father had been running the Labyrinth to get his sons back when the worlds merged. The boys were in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City when everything had gone to hell. Frankie, Dean, and Peter were Harlan Sisk's sons, and he wanted them back.

"Harlan Sisk," she whispered, and the King nodded.

"You called, Witch?" came a voice out of the trees from behind them. Sarah whipped her head around in the same instant that she was knocked bodily to the ground. She sprawled out slightly on the riverbank as she turned her body to cradle it from the impact. Jareth's jacket dropped off of her shoulders and was left to lie in the damp earth as three bodies surrounded her out of seemingly nowhere, knives drawn, staring her down.

She rolled back, righting herself, and landed in a crouch, facing the direction that she was hit from. Harlan Sisk had caught the still-gloved hand of the Goblin King and had it bent backward, behind his back.

"Shit," she hissed, cursing mainly at the lapse of attention that had allowed them to be ambushed. She drew in a breath as she saw that Sisk held the steel blade of a hunting knife against Jareth's neck, and that was the only thing that stayed her hand. Steel would kill him.

"Let me go, Runner."

"Don't fuckin' call me that, Goblin King," Sisk snapped, pressing the blade into his flesh, bending the King's neck back against his shoulder. The skin began to blacken and Jareth grimaced. Not a normal hunting knife then, she surmised. "I want my sons back, or I'll have your pretty head as a trophy," he demanded, and motioned with his head at the forest. Six more figures emerged from the darkness.

"I don't have your sons, Runner. They're as lost to me as they are to you," Jareth gasped. Indeed, Sarah thought, they were long gone, but not far off from where she, the King, and their captors were.

"Bullshit. You've taken loved ones from each one of us. We want them back." Three of the shadowy figures closed in on Sarah, glaring down at her, their wickedly curved hunting knife blades flashing in the darkness. "You'll give them up, or something very unpleasant will happen to you and the Witch, here."

The Goblin King's eyes flashed, and he caught Sarah's focus. "You will not touch her," he said with more command in his voice than she would have ever though he could muster.

Sisk laughed, and it was an oily sound. "Oh, you must have a connection with this one. We'll do plenty more than touch a pretty little thing like her, if that's what it will take."

Sarah felt the Goblin King's enraged power flare, but with Sisk's knife, obviously made of steel, against his throat and now mingling with his blood, using magic would only destroy him. Sarah gritted her teeth. There was no way they were going to get out of this with Jareth alive and intact unless she acted. It went against her grain, to reveal anything of herself; she'd been hiding for so long now that it was more natural to pretend to still be human than to do even the most menial of tasks with magic. She had made her decision.

Sarah was suddenly standing, without seeming to have moved, and the three figures around her took an involuntary step back.

"Let him go," she said softly.

The sound of the ten strangers along the riverbank laughing was her answer. The wind whipped through the trees, and suddenly the night looked a little darker. The forest seemed at once to go silent, then began an ominous growl, like a beast awakened.

The laughter turned to gasps for breath as Sarah exhaled, letting the power gifted to her by the Goblin King so long ago, added to by the powers that saved her and her brother during the merge, precede her shift. Even the Goblin King felt himself gasping, choking on magic that buzzed like fermented fruit and filled his mouth like wet sand.

She fixed Harlan Sisk with a glare to rival that of a gorgon as he dropped to his knees, clutching his neck, but still not letting his grip on the King's neck. He pulled Jareth to the ground even as he choked and gagged on Sarah's power, and the knife cut into Jareth's neck. His eyes went wide, and his other hand shot to catch the arm that held the knife. Silver blood started to flow over the blade, sizzling as it went.

"Let him go," she demanded again without moving.

Sisk looked up at her, terror soaking his watery eyes. "Get the fuck out!" he gasped, disbelieving as he stared at the woman across from him. "It can't be!"

Sarah's form wavered, going a bit grainy around the edges, and the attackers scrambled to stand up as they crab-walked away from the source of the choking power. She shot a tendril of black sand, nearly invisible in the darkness, snagging the knife neatly out of Sisk's somewhat more lax grip and making it melt as she absorbed it. She knocked Sisk away from Jareth, who was clutching at his neck with his bare hand, his eyes wide and wild with pain.

"You're not human!" Sisk hissed as he scrambled back to his feet, pushing himself upright using the tree trunk which he had been slammed against.

"Really?" she said, her voice a whisper of wind through the branches as she spoke. "I could say the same of you." Sarah shifted, her form growing and stretching, until before the eleven other people along the riverbank, she appeared as the beast of black sand, her body churning and sparkling like trapped moonlight as she hissed, baring sharp teeth.

"The sand beast..." Sisk whispered, staring at her in awe. A growl like a storm miles away issued from her maw, and was enough to set all but Sisk running, leaping over logs and stumbling through the underbrush.

She approached him slowly, stepping over the still-cringing Goblin King, trying not to heed his pain just yet; she couldn't give him her attention if she wanted to get him out of this alive. "Run," she hissed through her teeth, almost smiling, "Or you will die this night." Sarah saw Sisk tremble as she gently lifted Jareth in her arms, the delicate cloth of his shirt spilling over forearms as black as night, cradled in claw-tipped hands that could have torn him apart.

"What are you?" he asked, staring into her fathomless eyes. She snapped her jaws, and he stumbled and started running. Sarah wasn't about to give Harlan Sisk the answer he was looking for, or any answer for that matter. She watched as he ran into the tree line, smiling a little to herself as she heard wolves barking and snarling, and answering screams in the forest. The boys had felt her calling. She turned her eyes back at the Goblin King, shifted to be cradled gently in the curve of her tail, assessing his condition. He stared back at her, his expression inscrutable, bare hand still pressed against neck, under his jaw on the right side, where the knife had cut him. She could still hear the blood hissing against the wound.

Jareth's eyes widened as he looked over her shoulder. Sarah turned back to the tree line in time to see the wicked gleam in Harlan Sisk's eye and the hunting knife that he loosed into the air moments ago as it slid past her. Sarah screamed like thunder, splitting the air as the knife missed hitting the Goblin King dead center by mere inches; instead, it sank in to the hilt into Jareth's upper left stomach.


	19. Chapter 18 Shine Down

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted: 15 October 2009

* * *

Sarah's roar sounded out over the river valley, echoing into the distance as Jareth clutched his stomach around the hilt of the knife, the silvery blood flowing over his hands. She felt as if it were herself that had been impaled and shuddered as she turned toward him, still supporting him with the sandy tail that she had in the form of the beast. She leaned in close, grimacing, baring her teeth as she saw that only the hilt and pommel of the knife was visible.

Jareth was still, his expression still too shocked to be in pain. He opened his mouth to try and say something; blood bubbled out and ran down his chin instead.

"Steel," Sarah hissed, trying to think fast. This would kill him if she let herself falter. While not as deadly as straight iron, this wound was still more than enough to kill even the strongest of the Fae.

Three snarling forms leapt out from the underbrush from the northwest. The boys had heard Sarah's call of distress and laid waste to the distance that separated them from her in moments. Their claws dug into the soft ground as they skidded to a halt upon seeing the Goblin King as he laid prone, bleeding out, cradled by their Lady. There was death in her eyes as she addressed them.

"Catch Sisk if you can. I don't care about the rest. There are nine others."

"There are only six left," the white wolf said, baring his teeth in an imitation of a smile, his teeth reddened. Sarah nodded. Three already bloody grins below red glowing eyes turned from her and leapt, howling, back into the forest.

"Lilith," Jareth choked, more blood bubbling up, his hand going to the hilt of the knife.

"Don't try to pull the knife out," she said, stilling his bare hand with hers as she pulled part of herself back into the flesh of Lilith. "We have to get out of here before I can fix that." She stared down at him intently, her stomach, or what passed for it in this form, churning as she tried to think how to go about this.

A strange look passed over Jareth's features, something akin to peace. Her brow furrowed as she looked down upon him, noticing an odd glow emanating from the point of contact between his hand and hers. She pulled her hand away from his, but the glow started to spread. His skin was shimmering and radiating light. The glow was like that of a candle behind a sheet of paper; warm and diffuse.

"Jareth?" His name was the only question that she found herself able to form. His eyes were focused on the point at which they were in contact, registering the light there as it spread. The glow suffused the rest of him, and as it crawled up his neck and lit his face like clouds as they drew away from the sun, the pain was instantly gone from his eyes. He looked like a man reborn, which, really, wasn't far from the truth.

"What have you done to me?" he asked in a whisper just before she pulled his hand away from his and his eyes rolled back in his head. He fell limp against her sands, and the light went out like someone had flipped a switch. Sarah's countenance fell somewhere between apprehension and deadly curiosity, her anger at the man who had hurt the Goblin King forgotten for the moment. No, she realized; his skin was still luminescent. She reached out again, not quite touching him, and the light became brighter, like a fluorescent bulb near power lines. She drew her hand back again. Her sand didn't seem to affect him, but then again, it wasn't touching him directly, and hadn't done until that moment.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and stared at his still form. "Let's get you somewhere safe. When you wake up, I find that there are questions that I need answered, Goblin King," she said lightly, letting her sands gently enfold him, immobilizing him within herself.

She shot skyward, unfurling wings of midnight. Sarah hovered for a moment, considering; she couldn't just wing it on home. There was a chance that Sisk would be able to find the base. While there were precautions in place against intruders and wanderers, she didn't know what Harlan Sisk was truly capable of. He was part of the Labyrinth when the worlds merged, and lost his sons. A man with nothing to lose was a dangerous thing.

So, instead of heading directly back to the base, took off like a shot back the way she came, thunder following in her wake, a ring of condensation left behind as she broke the sound barrier.

* * *

The first thing Jareth became aware of again as he roused was that he was deathly thirsty. His mouth opened, and he gasped. His throat was on fire. His neck, he found as he put a hand up against it, was wound in bandage gauze. When he reached down along his stomach where the knife had hit him, he felt no wound. Instead, he felt a brace of metal resting atop his stomach. He picked it up gingerly off of his bare chest. Someone, he realized fuzzily, must have stripped him from the waist up to get to his wounds.

He was still trying to evaluate his general state as he realized what he held in his bare hands was the hilt of the knife that impaled him. Jareth tossed it aside in disgust with as much strength as he could muster from the awkward position he found himself in. It rang out like a high, clear bell as it impacted first the wall, then the stone floor of the sparse, medical-looking room that he found himself in. The hilt was made of solid silver, judging from the tone it rang in when it hit; a sound immediately recognizable to any Fae.

"Welcome back," came the slightly surprised voice from a dark corner of the medical room. He tried to turn himself toward the voice, wondering who was here with him. It was certainly not Lilith's voice that answered him.

Red eyes sparkling from their set in a blacker-than-night face smiled at him. "Di'shik'de," he concluded aloud, his voice rasping. The elf nodded. "Which one are you?"

"Jethro. Jet, please," he said, pushing off of the desk with his bare feet and rolling over to Jareth on the creaky old office chair. "It's probably wise to stay where you're at until you're finished healing. You very nearly bought the farm."

"It certainly feels like it," Jareth groaned, swinging his legs around to the side of the table and sitting up gingerly. The elf rolled his eyes and got up to bring the Goblin King a mug of water from the tap. "Thank you. Why are you here?" he asked, sighing in pleasure as the water slid down his parched throat and made him feel slightly better, all things considered.

"Why am I here? I live here. Well," he considered, "not *here* here. In the upstairs apartment, behind the shop. Lilith is asleep on the couch up there."

"How long was I out?" he asked, dreading the response.

"You DFO'd for the better part of two days now. You snore horribly." Jareth was too stunned to recognize that he should have been affronted at the insinuation that he snored.

"Two days?" He shook himself.

"Yes, two days. There was iron on the knife that cut your neck. It's just past five in the evening, so you know. Sam's out patrolling, and yes, before you ask, they told us that they're the beasts of black sand. Never thought there'd be two of them, though," he mused.

"I need to go see her," he said, swinging his legs around to the side of the makeshift bed.

"You shouldn't be moving. You very nearly died."

"I don't seem to care right now, Di'shik'de."

"You know, I think I liked you better when you were unconscious," Jet said critically, leaning back in the chair, his arms folded standoffishly over his chest. The abused office chair issued an extended, pained creak.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you," he said, pushing himself to his feet, his legs shaking as he put his weight on them. He tried to draw himself together and took a step toward the door of what looked to be a spare office and nurse's station heaped into one room, and crumpled to a heap on the floor instead. Jet was standing in the next instant.

"Put me down, Di'shik'de! I'm not an invalid!" Jareth shouted, or tried to, as he was lifted like a babe-in-arms by the huge black elf. His ire was met by shining eyes that may have been amused- he couldn't tell.

"You're not an invalid, no. You did, however, almost die. You would have if it hadn't been for Lilith. Accept the help, and lose the attitude, hm?"

"What happened?"

"You were gutted, and had your throat cut by a steel knife sporting iron filings. Dean retrieved it; the filings were held to the knife by a magnet at the base. Crude, but very effective," he commented, a flicker of respect flashing over his features.

Jareth scowled, a hand going to touch the bandage on his throat. "Leave it to the weapons dealer to focus on the efficacy of a weapon that nearly killed me."

Jet shot him a look that meant he should seriously stop annoying the man who could drop him on his arse at any moment. "The iron poisoned the wound," he continued, "and it took a while to figure that one out. Iron introduced directly to Fae blood is nearly always fatal."

"How is it that I'm alive, then?" he asked, the knowledge that that he should have died last night almost comforting to him.

"Lilith is craftier than anyone has given her credit for. She used an earth magnet to remove all traces of iron from the wound, and finished healing you herself." He sounded envious as he spoke, his voice rumbling against the Goblin King's side as Jet walked down one of the hallways and turned to ascend a small metal staircase.

"What do you mean, she healed me herself?"

"You're a lucky, lucky man, Goblin King. My brother and I would run ourselves through if we thought we could convince her to heal us," his smile turned wicked as he glanced downward at his burden. "She looks stunning with your blood running down her lips."

"Why in hell would she have my blood on her lips?" Jareth asked, his attention peaked. The thought of Lilith running her lips over his neck and stomach sent flutters to places that hadn't stirred voluntarily in years.

"She said her healing magic works on the principle of 'kiss it better,'" he said with a shrug that raised the Goblin King up another six inches. "Better to ask her."

"That's..."

"Kind of hot, I know. It would figure that we don't have any hope of a chance with her anymore. Even unconscious, you knew it was her touching you when she did."

Jareth went silent in his confusion and growing dread. He was unsure how to respond, but his curiosity was getting the better of his sense. "What do you mean? That I knew when she was touching me?" he asked finally.

"You glowed for her, Goblin King."


	20. Chapter 19 Mythos

All standard disclaimers apply. WOO! Long chapter... This is a kind of explainy one. Apologies. It needed to be done. Ja! - Bekx

Originally Posted: 28 October 2009

* * *

Jet walked into the apartment above the electronics shop and set Jareth down on the plush brown leather couch opposite the one Sarah was sleeping fitfully upon. The living room, or so Jareth surmised, was decorated in natural wood, forest colours, and mute browns. The polished oak coffee table had a stack of wrinkled Playboys stacked haphazardly on top of a book of Degas prints. Appropriate, he though with a roll of his eyes.

The Goblin King was given a stern glance by the weapons dealer before Jet turned and left Jareth to his own devices while he went into the kitchen, apparently to put the water on for tea.

Jareth had been silent in the moments following the revelation that he had glowed for someone. For that someone to have been Lilith made it all the more significant. The Animus that he had long been told he held inside himself had found its other half. Jareth had never believed the tale passed down from the Ancients, nor that he was one of the last Fae to be born with an Animus. If Di'shik'de was right (and Jareth, despite himself, believed that he was considering his recent revelations) Jareth possessed an Animus. The answering call of his Animus resounded in the matching half of his soul which held residence in the beast of black sand. She was his Complement. Despair rose like a well from the depths of his being.

It pushed out of him as he found himself sighing in dismay, his eyes wandering over to the sleeping beast in the shape of a woman on the couch across from him. He startled as her form flickered, her hair changing length and color, then changing back, and her skin fading out to become grainy. It looked like white noise on a television against Di'shik'de's worn-in leather couch. He leaned closer, bracing himself on the edge as he did.

"Ah," she gasped, startling him so that he nearly fell over. He gripped the edge of the couch as he pushed himself closer to try and watch her body as it flowed from flesh to sand and back again before settling on a strange mix of flesh and graininess. He found himself dropping to the plush gray carpet and practically dragging himself across the room to her side to look more closely. He couldn't have stopped if he tried. She tossed her head to the side facing him, her curling autumn blond locks raining down over her freckled face, partially obscuring her from him.

"Rise and shine, sweet cheeks," Jet called out to Sarah as he rounded the corner from the kitchen with a tray of food and hot tea.

Jareth was startled backwards, landing back on the carpet as her eyes snapped wide open in what looked to be fright; therein existed nothing but a soul-sucking void. It wasn't the first time that something about her had disconcerted him. He was sure it wouldn't be the last.

"What are you doing on the floor?" Sarah asked, pulling her breaths back into measure as Jareth tried to straighten himself out. She wasn't used to waking up anywhere but in her valley, let alone used to waking up on Jet and Jack's living room couch as she had these last two days, this time with a pair of mismatched eyes staring her down. She was also wondering why Jet had brought the Goblin King up two flights of stairs just to dump him on the floor.

She found that there were no answers forthcoming from the King on the floor, who looked to be pouting, his still-sinfully-tight pants contrasting against the pale gray plush carpet. Jareth merely continued to stare at her from his less-than-desirable vantage point, his eyes running down and back over her body. She frowned, looking down at herself, finding her body to be only partly in-the-flesh; the full curve of her shoulders and the tops of her breasts were flesh. His eyes seemed to have settled on her chest, just at the juncture of skin and sand.

When she realized that he wasn't staring at flesh, but the scar leftover from her death, she panicked, and her eyes would've dilated if she'd had pupils in her current form. The crescent scar from the steel beam that skewered her was visible in any of her forms; her shifting could hide a multitude of sins, but this mark outshone even her power. Jareth surprised her by not asking any questions about it, and she sighed, pulling the rest of her body back into that of Lilith. A blue camisole, high-cut enough to hide her death scar from view, and a pair of dark jeans obscured the King's vision, and she sat upright, reaching out to take the tray from Jet.

"How are you feeling?" she tried again as she set the tray down gently on the coffee table behind Jareth.

"I feel rather like I've been bludgeoned about the head by a rock caller," he answered frankly, trying to hide the trace of embarassment at having been caught staring at her. She had either not noticed, or was pretending not to. Either way, he was grateful. "But I still seem to be in the land of the living. Thanks for asking," he added after a moment, not sure how to begin what he knew needed to be started. "I shouldn't have healed this quickly from a steel wound," he said, gesturing at his bare stomach..

"No, you shouldn't have. I transmuted the steel in the knife to silver, and let your body absorb it to fill in the wound that the knife left."

Jareth stared at her like she'd grown a second head. She was tempted to check that she hadn't, just to be sure. "The crux of silver that was laying on top of me, then..."

"That was the remnants of the hilt of the hunting knife that hit you," she replied, confirming what he had thought.

"How do you know about Fae physiology?" he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

"I was alive during the wars following the merge. Iron kills Fae while silver heals. Iron is the base to human blood, whereas silver is the base of Fae."

"You were part of the wars?" he asked, suddenly incensed, his power, however weak, flaring up.

She levelled her gaze at him. "I was helping the fallen on both sides," she replied without inflection. What she didn't tell him was that she'd had to duplicate the fallen creatures with her power first to understand how they were put together in order to repair them. There was a lot of trial and error for her brother and herself in those first years. She doubted that Jareth would understand; she had saved many, but there were many more that were beyond her scope of knowledge at that point in time. They weren't anymore.

"The boys brought me one of the people that attacked us," she stated, pointedly changing the subject. Jet leaned back next to her and soaked a biscuit in his tea, then sucked the liquid out of it, his long pointed ears twitching ever so slightly forward.

"They're Runners," Jareth said, pulling his eyes away from her chest like he could see through the shirt that she wore. He had recognized the two or three attackers that he had managed to catch a glimpse of. "Something within them has changed, though."

Sarah nodded. "The one that the boys brought me said that she had no memory of the Labyrinth or the daughter that she wished away until Sisk spoke with her." She watched as Jareth nodded carefully.

"The Labyrinth modifies the memories of the Runners; they may remember the Unwanted as daydreams or Déjà vu. For the Wishers, I reorder time so to them, the Unwanted never existed."

"Wishers and Runners?" she asked, cocking her head to the side slightly, not understanding the difference.

"Wishers become Runners when they accept the challenge presented by the Labyrinth. I can remove all memory of the Unwanted from the minds of the Wishers because they will never have been changed by the Labyrinth's magic, but I can only modify the Runners' memories. There's a chance that they may be... jogged as it were." He managed a smirk at his pun. Sarah grimaced. "It's the Runners who are granted power for the duration of the Labyrinth, and may retain traces of that power even when they lose. The merge of worlds has obviously allowed them to retain those powers, or else, they wouldn't still be amongst the living. If they were alive at the merge, assuming something hasn't killed them, they're still alive."

"This has been one hell of a week for you, hasn't it?" Jet asked with a chuckle.

"You have no idea," the Goblin King said seriously. "I nearly died twice. I met wolves who would be boys, creatures that shouldn't exist, and I owe my life to one twice over," he said quietly, touching his neck. "Would that I could offer the oath of my life," he said, and Sarah recognized the offer for what it was. He was trying to incant a binding life debt to her. Sarah shook her head, declining.

"You owe me nothing, Goblin King. What I did last night was as much to save my own skin, such that it is, as it was to save yours," she said.

"You treat my life as if it were of no consequence to you, yet you have saved it twice over now," Jareth hissed from his position on the floor.

"Lilith," Jet started, almost sounding hesitant, "just so you know; you are refusing a life debt from a Fae King born with an Animus. For such a powerful figure, that's quite a blow to the ego." Jet was trying to sound helpful, but came off as endlessly entertained. Jareth was starting to get irritated at the grinning elf.

"I know what I'm refusing, Jet. I will not have a being other than myself under my command." She turned back to the Goblin King. "I don't care what you think I'm implying by refusing responsibility for your life. "

"Is it the responsibility that you don't want to face?" Jareth asked, his face still hard as he stared up at her.

"It's not the responsibility. It is, however, the fact that you will need my true name to seal this debt." Jareth went still, a strange look on his face. He hadn't been thinking about the repercussions for her, but honor bound him to offer, because he was, indeed, indebted twice over; if he really thought about it; Sam would have crushed him if she hadn't recognized him. He hadn't thought about her refusing the debt, but then again, he hadn't expected her to know the intricacies of such a Fae life debt.

"Sneaky, sneaky," Jet admonished with an admiring smile. Jareth glared at Jet, then glanced back at Sarah.

"I offered the debt of my life with no strings attached. I would not tread on your privacy like that," he said, trying to soften his countenance and failing. She narrowed her eyes.

"You already have, Goblin King. My privacy, at this point, is a joke. I've revealed my nature to more people in the last three days than I have in the last seventy years on your behalf!" The repressed rage in her was starting to coil like a snake in her gut.

"Through no fault of my own! I didn't intend to land here in this hell-forsaken backwater!" he sprang back.

"Why are you still here, then? Why did you stay? You could've left the same night that you found us. Or even the next morning. And as long as we're on the subject, why the hell were you so far from the center of the Goblin Territories? The Goblin City is near Chicago. You're damn near in West Virginia."

Jareth was seething internally, but he spoke in measured tones as he addressed her. "I set off in the general direction that I was pointed to, due to sightings of a mysterious beast of black sand and moonlight with a voice like thunder," he said, his voice holding the sharp edge of irony. "I suppose the Animus that I didn't believe I had steered me toward the other Animus that I didn't believe existed. I guess I found what I was looking for," he said snidely.

"Looks like you did. What are you going to do about it?"

"I can't really do a damned thing about it, can I?"

"You could bring your armies down like a plague and destroy my home, my friends, and my life. You could try to steal me away to your Castle Beyond the Goblin City."

"I could. I won't."

"Why not? You've walked into a dangerous place here, and put me in a spot which is just as bad, if not worse. Once you leave, I'll still be dealing with the fallout."

"Because I know enough about you to know that you'll run the moment that I try to come back. Now that I've found you, and this part of me Recognizes you, I will not lose you," he all but hissed at her.

Sarah went stock still, pretty sure that her blood stopped cold in her veins. When she first started hiding herself, she feared that the Goblin King would find her. Now he had, and the five words he had just said to her had dogged her heels as she moved from place to place, and haunted her nightmares since the worlds merged. She pulled herself back together enough to find her voice. "You recognize me," she parroted him, forcing a snide tone into her voice despite her thoughts.

"Part of me does, yes." Well. That was clear as mud.

"What do you mean?"

"The Animus within me is probably what drove me here," he said, his voice curling his upper lip like like smoke.

"Animus? Isn't that Latin for 'soul'?"

"It's more than that," he said irritably.

"And this is more than a normal soul how?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and leaned against the couch from his position on the floor.

"The most important of myths handed down to us through the Ancients, taught to Fae children from birth, is that of the Animus," he explained, passing his long-fingered bare hand over his eyes. "Long ago, the children of the Ancients were born with an Animus, a full soul, instead of animæ, or lesser souls. Those with an Animus were the strongest, and often out-powered the Ancients themselves, who had created the world as it used to be."

"How did the world used to be?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her anger for the moment.

"It used to be as it currently is; one world instead of two. The Ancients split the Animus into halves and separated them because those with an Animus were too powerful to be left whole. When the halves of an Animus met, one would often devour the other, sometimes literally, in an effort to become whole, and not being able to survive without it's other half somewhere in the world, it would then, itself, die." It sounded like he was reciting this story after having heard it hundreds of times. Perhaps he was.

"Why the separation of the worlds?" Jet asked, not having heard this tale before.

"The tale says that the remaining Ancients bundled their power and separated the worlds into the world of the mundane, the Aboveground, and the world of the fantastic, the Underground. The Animus were divided above and below to maintain a balance of sorts with the intention never to meet, lest they destroy themselves and the worlds along with it." Jareth looked down into his hands, remembering the way he was drawn to Sarah.

He shook his head, and finished, "The Ancients apparently never considered the possibility that the Animus would meet it's other half only to be torn away again. It would search until the ends of time to find it again."

"This story you're telling me... This Animus is like having a sentient soul, apart from having a sentient mind, which is constantly searching for its missing half."

"Basically," he said miserably.

"And my soul is sentient as well. I have an Animus instead of a regular old run-of-the-mill soul."

"Yes. Instead of an anima, you have an Animus which is the matching half to my own."

"You're telling me that I'm your soulmate," she asked, clarifying.

Jareth grimaced like he had tasted something foul. "If you're insistent upon using that term to explain it, it wouldn't be very far from the truth, but it misses the point entirely."

"What the hell would you call it, then?" she asked, still not buying.

"Your Animus is mine's Complement. Together, our Animus is complete," he hissed.

"Wouldn't that be Animuses?" she asked. He glared up at her, watching the dust motes play with the fading sun rays in between them.

"No, it would not," he snapped as if he were addressing an ignorant child. "Just as two halves only make one, we would have one complete Animus between us," Jareth bit out. She could all but hear his teeth chipping against one another.

"Why are you so pissed off all of a sudden?" she asked, getting sick of his attitude. "This is the first that I'm hearing about all this magical Fae Animus crap. I didn't involve myself with the Fae for this reason; you all make the simplest of problems into a nuclear meltdown! I'm not even sure I believe your mythos to boot. You could just be making this up as you go along."

"I'm angry," he said, shuddering, tearing his eyes away from her and staring hard at his clenched hands. "I'm angry, because it shouldn't be you!" he growled, sounding almost vehement enough to make Sarah rethink her next words. "It shouldn't be an undead beast of black sand and moonlight that holds the Animus that Complements a king of two worlds," he finished on a whisper.

"Who should it be, then?" she fired back. "Perhaps an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby?" Jareth looked like she had slapped him, his mind running a mile a minute. She may as well have as far as he was concerned. Even Jet winced, recognizing the slam for what it was; Sarah'd had enough. She was watching her carefully-built life starting to spiral out of control, all because of this man.

"Undead?" Jet asked, raising an eyebrow, and breaking the tense silence that reigned for moments that felt like weeks.

"What else would you call something that was alive, then died, but now lives again?" Jareth asked snidely.

"A zombie," Jet said, sounding like he was guessing.

"Goddamnit, Jet, I'm not a zombie. I don't eat brains."

"How do I know that?" Jet asked, trying to sound innocent as he looked over at her with doe eyes.

"Shut up, or yours will be the first that I'll try," she said, shaking her head,

"Jesus, then. You could be a god," he suggested.

"Not a chance," she dismissed, then turned back to the Goblin King. "Right. So. Say I believe you. What the hell am I supposed to do about your soul having Recognized mine?"

"It's not what you're supposed to do. It's what I, as a King, am supposed to do."

"Which is what?"

"I'm supposed to bring you back with me. I'm apparently supposed to make a beast," he chuckled, "for whom I glow," he spat like it tasted foul, "into my queen," he hissed as a finish.

Sarah'd had enough.

"I'm sorry I returned to this world as a monster," she said quietly. "And I'm sorry that your subconscious decided that it would be a good idea to drag me along for the ride. Don't expect me to be happy about your soul deciding that I'm your perfect match; I knew that there was a reason that you were here. You had to have wanted something. You couldn't just have stayed for the night, and taken your leave in the morning, counting your blessings to have not been destroyed. No. You have to have your answers. You're not getting any more answers from me, Goblin King." She stopped her rant as he lunged for her, his bare hands sinking up to the wrists into the shifting torso of sand. He lit up like Christmas, nearly blinding Jet, who turned away with a gasp. He hadn't been that bright when he glowed before.

Terrified, Sarah exploded backward with a snarl, the beast of sand forming like a halo around her. Thunder echoed overhead. Despite Jareth's contact with her being broken, the glow still lingered, and Sarah's eyes were wide as she stared at him. "You claim that you owe me your life, Goblin King? Do that again, and I'll take it from you," she said icily, shifting fully to sand as she burst through the door, slamming it against the wall and embedding the doorknob in the plaster. The building seemed to sigh, expanding as she ripped through it, and creaked a sigh as she left the vicinity for the skies, thunder ripping though the air as she broke the sound barrier.

"Good job, Goblin King. I think you've managed to do something that Jack and I haven't been able to do since we met that woman. You pissed her off."


	21. Chapter 20 Dogs and Chocolate

All standard disclaimers apply. Introspective chapter.

Originally Posted: 18 November 2009

* * *

Sarah rode the skies until sun set over the hills and valleys of the woods, venting her bile on the clouds as she sailed through them. The clouds that would have shed rain instead spat hail as her sands reached them. The ice pelted the forests below her. She had finally exhausted her anger running mental wind sprints, unable to believe that she let him get her so riled up. Sarah's temper hadn't been this volatile since she was alive the first time. Come to think of it, she hadn't been this irrationally angry since she running the Labyrinth, back when she felt anger was an appropriate response to cover insecurity and terror.

When she said the six words that she thought had destroyed the Goblin King's hold on her, Sarah had been so confident that it had been the right way to end it. She didn't realize until years later that the devil was in the fine print; all she'd had to do was to solve the Labyrinth, which she'd done in less than ten hours. She'd won the prize when she got past the Gatekeeper and entered the Goblin City, which wasn't part of the Labyrinth. When she bested the blasted maze, she won her brother's freedom. Her freedom, she realized, hadn't been part of the deal. Jareth would have been within his rights to keep her there, but he hadn't. If he had taken two bloody minutes to explain the game that he was trying to play with her, maybe things would have ended up differently.

Instead, now it was like she was back in her room after the win, feeling simultaneously triumphant and utterly despondent. The dejected look on his face was permanently branded on the back of her eyelids; all she could see when she closed her eyes was the king as he fell away from her, cape and clothes whipping and curling around him like feathers in a gale as the Underground disintegrated before her. Sarah was fifteen again, staring at her bedroom mirror and hoping against all odds that the king, the man, the Fae that she just annihilated, from the world that she hoped hadn't been razed from her carelessness would come into view without her having wished. Cowardice had stolen the words "I wish" away from her; Sarah would never speak that phrase again.

Part of her wondered if she were to call on her mirror for Hoggle and Didymus, and Ludo if they would still answer. She felt her stomach clench at the prospect of trying. The mirror in the room that Jareth had stayed in at the base was, in actuality, the mirror that she had retrieved from her childhood home years after the merge. When she and Toby had gone back to say their goodbyes, they found that their two rooms out of the entire house were virtually untouched, while everything else looked to have been ransacked.

She sighed. Jareth had to leave. Just his presence had destroyed her peace of mind. Then again, he couldn't stay away from his kingdom indefinitely. She was sure that there was something that he was supposed to be doing, but worried briefly at how to get him back without taking him herself. He found the place once; she was certain that he would be able to do it again, whether or not she wanted him to be able to.

Sarah descended through the evening rains, her sands dodging the droplets, and descended upon the old military base that was her home, not exactly feeling good about the position that hosting the Goblin King left her in. Peter was sitting out on the roof, staring at the sky in the rain as she landed next to him, and he quirked a smile at her as she let her disguises drop.

Her wide eyes, the colour of a Carribean sea in the sun, sparkled more unnaturally than they used to when she was alive, and her hair fell down her back in a brown wave. Her pale face was devoid of freckles and her full lips returned Peter's smile as she sat next to him, reveling in the feel of the rain against her skin. Water dripped off of her ski-sloped nose as she turned her face to the weeping sky with a sigh.

They sat for long minutes in companionable silence in the cold rain after a bone-deep sigh from Sarah while she just let the rain wash over her, soaking her to the skin. The animals had been fed and watered, and the crops and orchards had been picked from, just as any other day, she knew. Life here was like clockwork, and it was peaceful. Jareth having dropped in on them certainly had thrown a wrench in the works.

"Let's go inside and dry off. I'll make hot chocolate," Sarah offered finally. Peter tilted his head toward her and nodded.

Sarah briefly turned sandy and the water dropped through her grains. Peter walked through her sands and emerged warm and dry, the water forming steam in the cold air that still surrounded them. She smiled as he went on ahead to the kitchen, the scent of wet dog lingering.

* * *

Sarah sighed as she sat down in the kitchen, the thick scent of hot chocolate pouring over her. Peter leaned back in the dining room chair with his own mug, sipping it carefully.

"I haven't really gotten a chance to talk to you or your brothers after the other night. Are you all okay?" she asked, her anxiety over the whole ordeal finally showing through.

"We're fine," Peter said, shrugging it off as he ran a hand through his short mop of brown hair, his eyes catching the firelight from the stove in the kitchen and glowing like back-lit garnets. "We're worried for you, but otherwise, we're fine."

"You don't need to worry about me," she admonished lightly, rolling the thick chocolate over her tongue. "It's supposed to be my job to worry about you three."

"We will always worry about you, Lady, especially after last night; we actually have a defined enemy now. Between the three of us, we could only find three of the people that were with Harlan, and the ones that we found seemed to be confused still. Those are the ones that we killed. The others, if they're clear-headed like Harlan seems to be, could pose a problem. The ones that we were able to kill are the only ones that we saw; the rest of them, I have a feeling, are going to be a damn sight harder to deal with," he said, his tone and words belying his years.

She looked the boy who would be a wolf in his eyes, worry etching her features as she did. "So you know who Harlan Sisk actually is?" she asked.

Peter nodded. "We smelled him," he said in a growl, setting his mug down on the ceramic coaster. "He is our father. I hadn't heard his name until that day at the festival, when Dean told me about the man that was bothering you at the grocer." He made a mental note to give Frog extra apples for helping his Lady. "That evil bastard killed her. He killed our mother." Peter's words would have come out as a hiss, but for the lack of sibilants.

"Your - Harlan Sisk killed your mother?" she asked, horrified, her eyebrows knitting together, creasing her forehead.

Peter nodded, staring into the depths of his mug, tilting it and watching the chocolate swirl. "The three of us ran at him after he cut her. He broke my arm from picking me up by it, and Dean bit his leg trying to keep him away from Frankie. He threw Dean off of him and into a lit fire grate. Dean still has the scars on his back, even after the goblins healed him. The grate was iron, so it scarred."

"You never told me."

Peter nodded. "It's not something that we dwell on. We actually never saw him after Mom wished us away to the Goblin King's care. I don't think she expected him to actually attempt to get us back. It was the only thing that she could think to do to keep us safe after she died. I think she knew that her death was inevitable. But she believed in the stories that her grandparents passed down to her; she believed in the Fae lords, and the Seelie and Unseelie, and worlds left unseen. She used to tell us stories at bedtime." Peter sighed, looking up as Dean padded in, his wolf sounding a low whine, almost a grumble, as he did. He leaned up against Sarah's leg, and she rested her hand on his broad gray head.

Peter nodded at his brother. "Harlan slit her throat after she said the right words, and she fell. The Goblin King was there before she fully hit the floor. I remember that her blood splashed onto the Goblin King's boots. She looked so relieved to see him when her eyes finally closed."

"Harlan confronted the Goblin King after his speech at the fountain. He said that he wanted his sons back."

Peter snorted as Dean growled, the deep bass rumble rattling Sarah's bones. "We are no sons of his," he said, not with sadness. There was fire in his voice. "He killed her with the same knife that stabbed the Goblin King and nearly stole his life."

Sarah sat back, stunned, but with a better realization of why the Goblin King had been so off-the-handle when he spoke with Sisk. "I'm so sorry," she said in a breath. He shrugged.

"I don't remember her so much," he said a little guiltily, shrugging his shoulders and wrapping his small hands around his warm mug. "I'll remember a sound or a smell sometimes. I remember that she looked like you when she smiled. What you really look like; dark hair, green eyes. Frankie is lucky in some ways; he barely remembers her at all. It haunts Dean, though, that he couldn't do anything to save her."

"He couldn't have done anything, though!" She looked down at the wolf at her feet. "You couldn't have stopped him, Dean. You can't take that responsibility on your shoulders."

Dean merely huffed, the wolfish equivalent of a shrug.

"We can do something about it this time, though," Peter said, his young voice steely. "You are our Lady. We are your boys. We will protect you as you protect us; tooth and claw, we will fight for you, Lady Sarah."


	22. Chapter 21 Snag

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted: 27 November 2009

* * *

Sarah, her spirits finally perking up, finished the last of her hot chocolate, which had congealed slightly upon cooling; it slid slowly down her throat as she listened to Peter, who was mentally in full-riot gear. She could almost see his synapses firing. Dean's huge wolfy head rested across her lap, and she stroked the soft fur on his pointed ears absently. His tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth over sharp, unnaturally white teeth as her fingers did their dance, and he grumbled. The chess board that was Peter's brain held no interest for him; Dean was Peter's equivalent of the white knight, doing what he was told, and he preferred it that way.

"Look at what he was able to do to the Goblin King," Peter's clear voice rang out as he thought about the situation at hand. "Sisk obviously knows the weaknesses of the Fae. We don't know what he's capable of at this point. There's only so much you can do to a man who has nothing to lose," he said reasonably.

"While I can't promise that nothing will go wrong, we have the upper hand in this," Sarah started. "This is our home turf. We have the satellites up and running thanks to Jet and Jack. We have food, water, shelter, and weapons. We have lived in this valley for years. Sisk has never, and will never know such a fight if he comes after us in this place."

"We need to get the king back to his lands, though. He's probably already been gone for too long. I don't want to risk the Spanish Inquisition coming down here after him," Peter said seriously.

"I had thought that, too. He's too weak to fly that distance right now, though."

"You could take him, like you brought him to the Di'shik'de's while the satellites were still down."

"I don't know what kind of defenses or wards he has active on his inner sanctum. It's too much of a risk to try to fly in like that. Aside from that, it would pretty much be announcing the existence of the beasts of black sand. I'd much rather keep it a myth, so that fewer people come hunting. I'm just lucky that everyone in town already thinks that Harlan Sisk isn't playing with a full deck. He's probably in some pretty thick shit, though, once the king gets home. You can't just attack a faerie from the goddamned High Council without repercussions. And in public, to boot. That wasn't the best of ideas on his part."

"We could caravan it up to Chicago," Peter suggested, his eyes lighting up.

"The interstate?"

"Yeah, why not? It's not like we don't have a mode of transportation. The Jeep is in working order."

"Good point. No one would really be expecting it. Humans are the only ones that really use the interstates, so they're not as crowded as the port points would be."

"And really, who would bat an eye at a couple out for a drive with a couple kids in the back?" Peter said with a teasing grin. Sarah shook her head, the beginnings of an exasperated smile forming.

"Everyone's so quick to marry us off and have us breeding," she said.

* * *

Sarah's sands landed with a hiss and a curl, directly in counterpoint to the explosion of temper that she'd left the shop with hours earlier. Jareth, who was slumped over in a corner of the couch, grumbled a sigh and tried to turn over as she arrived. Jet looked up from the kitchen table around the corner and nodded his head at her, his grin wide and startlingly white as he set the solder gun back on its cradle.

"The satellites are up and running," she called out to the elf. Jareth winced, pushing himself upright and blinking owlishly at the sands. He stared as the black mass reformed and became once again recognizable as Lilith.

"Ah, good. Jack was able to figure it out, then?"

"Indeed. He used the modified part that you made, and was able to decipher the transmissions. We're online, we have maps, we have overhead views, and we have weapons. It's a beautiful thing."

"Where's my thanks?" he said, leaning a little further over, rubbing a huge hand over his neck, rubbing the muscles loose as he hung his head.

"My deepest gratitude, Sir Di'shik'de," she said, mocking a bow.

"That's not the deep gratitude that I was expecting," Jet grumbled.

"How did you thank Jack?"

"I actually haven't spoken to him yet. This is second-hand knowledge from the boys."

"Oh. Well. I don't need to know how they thanked him. You're markedly more interesting."

"I doubt that," she said skeptically, then turned to the prostrate king on the couch. "I'm going to take you back to the base," she said. "I've inconvenienced my poor elves enough to last a lifetime."

"Inconvenienced them?" he asked incredulously. "What about my convenience?"

"Unannounced visitors should try to be polite," she scolded, kneeling next to him, and letting her sands overtake her human form. Something previously unknown - the Animus? - curled in her gut as the grains that comprised her body in this form came into contact with his still-bare hands, his arms, his chest, and she blinked, taking a breath. Something to file away for later mental dissection, she supposed. Maybe Jareth hadn't been lying to her with the story that he told about the Ancients and the upgraded souls. He was, in fact, glowing like golden candlelight, and her black sands were eating away the sight of the light as she curled around him.

"I was perfectly polite," he said, sounding positively choked as she wrapped herself around him, and just the slightest bit panicked as Sarah's sands began to creep over his neck and up toward his face. As she lifted him from the couch, she had to consider what she was sure she looked like at that moment; a composite beast of two equally strange beings.

"You were especially polite while you snored, Your Majesty," Jet said helpfully, running his hand through his hair, pushing it back behind his long pointed ears. Jareth narrowed his eyes before the sands overtook those as well, and greasy black smoke began to pour from the kitchen just beyond Jet. Jet's nose twitched. Twitched again. He turned around, and she saw his jaw drop and he took off into the smoke-filled room, knocking the chair that he had been sitting on back. It teetered precariously on the right hand side's legs before succumbing to gravity; the clatter made Sarah wince.

"Oops," Jareth said, not feeling innocent, nor sounding contrite. Sarah muffled a snicker, and Jareth felt her sands constrict lightly, and not at all unpleasantly, around him.

"We'll be at the base tonight, Jet. Come by when you can."

"Damnit!" came the voice from between clenched teeth. "I'll be by later, as soon as I can get the toaster to detach from the countertop. It seems to have melted through. OW! Shit!"

"Goodbye, Jet," she said, snickering as the last visible bit of the Goblin King sank into her sands. A moment later, she made her way out into the skies, and headed for home.

"This is a very odd way to travel," Jareth commented. He didn't seem to be uncomfortable, though, so she continued, her sands skimming the treetops, obscured by the evening, and ignored by the forest's creatures. "I can see myself," came his musing again, "and I can see the ground below, but I do not feel the breeze or smell the pine that I would if I were flying myself."

"You could consider that you're effectively in a different plane of existence, and just pretend that what you see is a window to another world. That's..." she trailed off, her voice sounding different to him as it seemed to come from all directions, and none at all. Maybe it was merely inside his head, and when he was inside her, he wasn't a corporeal thing.

"That's what?" he asked, trying to ignore the strange feeling of not actually feeling anything at all. He supposed that he would feel the grains of her sand surrounding him, suspending him, but he didn't. What he felt, instead, was the sensation that he now recognized as his Animus curling in pleasure.

"That's the way I used to spend long car rides with my parents. I would pretend that the window was the only thing separating me from a strange and fantastic world." The rumble of her explanation cut through his senses, and he shivered, feeling the rising gooseflesh. He felt her quake in response, nearly clipping a treetop. "That feels very strange, Gobin King. Are you all right?"

"Why do you persist in calling me that?" he asked, irritation bursting through the halcyon that he was feeling just enough to make its presence known, but not enough to destroy the feeling completely.

"What? 'Goblin King?' Because that's who you are."

"That's not who I am. That's what I do."

"You king goblins?" Jareth sighed, rolling his eyes. He felt her laugh in response.

"That tickles," he said, shifting as the sands roiled over him.

"Sorry."

"No reason to be. It felt... interesting. A side effect of this kind of travel, I suppose. Why won't you call me by my name, then? It would save you a syllable," he pointed out.

"Because I don't think it's fair," she said resonably.

"Oh you don't?" It was strange to her that when she spoke those last words to him, she was able to tell that she was thinking about the Sarah of so many years ago; he remembered her young and pouting and stomping at the perceived unfairness of it all. He thought, now, that she had been exactly right back then; it truly wasn't fair.

"If I am able to use your true name, then you should, by rights, be able to use mine. So I call you 'Goblin King' to alleviate some of the unfairness. It makes sense to me."

"Call me Jareth," he purred, shutting his eyes and reveling in the presence of his perfect matching half. His words sounded, surprisingly, more like a request than a demand. "No strings attached."

"I'll think about it," she conceded.

"I'll get more than enough bowing and scraping and 'your majesty's and 'sire's when I get home. Sometimes a change of pace is nice. But why do you use the moniker of a demon?"

"It's not just the name of a demon," she told him, crossly, narrowing her eyes. "Although I do feel as if I may somehow have been the cause of this." He felt her gesture more than saw it.

"The merge?" he asked. He felt her nod her assent. "I doubt it," he said quietly after a moment's pause. "I have long thought my own power to have been the catalyst that caused it."

"How do you figure?"

"The veils that separated the worlds were fraying already," he told her, and it felt hushed, like he was spilling his soul. "I went a little bit mad when I saw Sarah die." Jareth thought back again on that night as he had done so many times before, and expected the same soul-wrenching pain to collide with him yet again. The only escape that he had for the first weeks after she was lost to him was that of the Goblin Ale. It had kept him too lost within the confines of his own mind to let his magic wreak any more havoc on the delicate fabric of the two worlds that were still stitching themselves back into a cohesive whole.

This time, though, when he braced himself for its impact, for the hollowness that it inevitably caused, it did not come. A moment passed. Then another. He felt his heart constrict when he realized that, inside this beast of black sand and moonlight, he would never feel that wrenching pain and utter desolation. She was his perfect match; his Animus recognized hers as its complement.

"What is it?" came her voice from nowhere and everywhere, like a siren calling to her sailor, heady and seductive, though he hadn't noticed it before. He just shook his head, warmed beyond belief there in the gentle embrace of the sands of a beast that shouldn't exist. His mind was at peace there inside her, and his soul was complete.

* * *

"Hello, wolf," Jareth greeted from his position on the odd little living room's couch, opening his eyes. Dean chuffed as he pulled down a well-used pillow from the far edge. He dropped down onto it after circling a time or two, his muted red eyes fixed on the king while his nose was tucked under one of his back legs.

Sarah had gotten back to the base, but didn't immediately release him from her sands. Jareth, for his part, was content to be carted around until she entered a good-sized, homey room that felt at odds with most of the rest of the base. He was deposited gently onto a brown leather, broken-in, soul-eating couch which seemed to reach up from around him and cradle his body as he sank into it. The room was lit with strange faerylight lamps that seemed to mimic daylight. There were potted herbs set directly into one wall nearest the light sources and windows, and immediately next to the herb wall looked to be covered with bark. It took him a moment to realize that the wall of bark was actually a tree growing straight up through the room.

The tree's bark had grown in such a way that there were dozens of books tucked into its nooks and crannies. More books were leaning, stacked up against the third wall, which curved to enclose the rest of the room. The stone floor was covered in rugs and pillows without much order, giving the resemblance of a tumble room.

Sarah had left him there, excusing herself to go make some supper and check on the boys, the elves, her brother, and the base. She told him to rest some more, that she'd be back in a while, and that he could peruse the books at his leisure if he wanted to. He'd picked up a small book that had been left within arm's reach next to the couch. He found out after only a moment that not only was the book a strange comic of sorts, but to read right to left. He'd fallen into a dreamless sleep about half way through it and dozed until Dean had padded in.

"You're the oldest of the three, aren't you?" He asked the gray wolf, sitting up. Jareth's question was more of a statement as he looked the wolf over. Another chuff answered him. "I thought so. I remember you." Dean quirked an ear forward.

Jareth nodded and waved his hand gently. A crystal appeared at his fingertips after a moment. He framed it with his hands and pulled them apart; the crystal grew along with them until it was a little bigger than Jareth's head, then flattened out. Dean's ears flattened, but he didn't move.

"Would you like to see the Labyrinth again?" Jareth asked with a small quirk of his lips, gesturing at the clear disk that hovered at an angle in front of him. Dean's curiosity was getting the better of him as he uncurled and hopped up on the couch next to the Goblin King. After a moment a birds-eye view of the Labyrinth and its immediate surrounding lands flickered to life. Dean leaned in, peering deeply into the disk as Jareth's fingers deftly manipulated the images that appeared against the strange flat crystal, watching raptly as the Labyrinth's walls shifted and warped along with the king's motions.

Sarah rounded the corner to see Dean as a wolf, one of his ears pointing straight up, the other flopped lazily against his head, plastered side-by-side against the Goblin King, staring as his hands flew over a clear disk with the form of the Labyrinth raised to tower over it. She snorted, amused; the Labyrinth had a control panel.

Jareth looked up as Sarah quietly entered the room, appearing as Lilith. The look on Jareth's face was nearing comical, like he'd been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. She set down the platter of food that she had gone to fetch. Dean's attention was instantly on Sarah, and she smiled.

"What have you got there?" she asked, looking up at Jareth. He raised an eyebrow.

"It's just a slightly modified crystal. Like a scrying plate," he said. "It doesn't take much magic to do," he qualified, drawing his hands together and closing the crystal just as a frantic looking goblin popped into view and yelled something unintelligible. Dean grumbled a question.

"Hm?" Jareth asked, tilting his head at the wolf. Dean looked to where the crystal was, then back at Jareth. "Oh. That was just my Steward, Prattle."

"Was it anything important?" Sarah asked, touching the oak tree's bark gently. The tree seemed to shudder and expand, reaching out toward her. A branch grew thick, bent low, and formed a strange bench of sorts as Sarah sat down. The wood flowed like water, curling around her, cradling the curve of her back as she crossed her legs and looked at him. Dean didn't bat an eyelash; he was staring at the golden roasted bird - pheasant, perhaps? - sitting so prettily on a bed of fried potatoes and smelling gently of rosemary and garlic. A carafe of red wine sat next to it along with a single glass for the king.

"No," Jareth answered, marveling once again at her, his Animus reveling in her renewed presence. "If it was urgent, he would have sent a crystal after me, or the Labyrinth herself would have notified me."

Sarah nodded. "Unless I miss my mark, you're still suffering from the after-effects of iron poisoning. You're still sleeping an awful lot. Eat up." He stared at the food skeptically, but served up a generous portion which Dean eyed covetously.

Sarah rolled her eyes at the wolf, then continued, "Your magic is still intact, it looks like, but starting to strain. Your physical endurance has taken a hit, too. You should be back to rights in another day or so, but I don't want to risk your safety much longer by keeping you here without a proper guard or the safety wards on your lands."

"How do you know about my wards?" Jareth said after swallowing a mouthful. His eyes widened as he tasted the food, and his mouth set to watering after the fact. "This is amazing, by the way," he said, taking another bite.

"Thank you. And no sane ruler would leave their lands unguarded while they took a vacation."

"Perhaps I'm not sane." A drink of wine set him even hungrier and he dished out another serving as his plate cleared, seemingly of its own volition.

"Perhaps not. You did, after all, come after mythical beasts, in the dead of night, hundreds of miles from familiar lands, without an escort or an army. No one knew where you were. You could have been killed and dropped in a shallow grave before anyone of any import even knew you were gone. That reeks of sanity, you know."

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not easy to kill."

"Popular belief is winning out, Goblin King," she pointed out reasonably.

"In extenuating circumstances such as these, I suppose it looks that way. What you don't understand is that the reason I was able to be taken unaware is that the ones that attacked us were creatures born of the Labyrinth. They smelled of familiar magic, which, coupled with the fact that the Labyrinth and her creations and creatures are my domain. They shouldn't have been able to directly attack me in such a manner."

"Why not? I could smack you upside the head right now."

He glared at her, spinning the silver fork delicately between his fingers. "You're not a creature of the Labyrinth under my domain, now are you?" Sarah smiled and shrugged, which he could take to mean whatever he wanted it to mean. He set the fork down loudly on the plate. "Back to my point, any direct harm that one of the denizens of my domain tries to cause to my person would rebound due to a geas put in place by the Ancients themselves. If the origin of a creature is foreign, say, from another kingdom, they could theoretically cause me harm. Another High Fae, or a wife, should I ever be forced to take one, could hurt me. Or I could injure myself," he said with a shrug.

"So when you smelled these creatures, you didn't think that they could even attempt to hurt you."

"Correct."

"But Sisk is a creature whose power originated in the Labyrinth, and he caused you harm, which, may I point out, was quite significant."

"Correct."

"How the hell was he able to do that?"

"I have no idea. Perhaps the merge twisted his magic somehow."

"You should have cut the son-of-a-bitch in half during your speech," she said with a sigh.

Jareth gave her a pointed look. "Your brother, the peacemaker, moved him the moment before my control lapsed, if you'll remember. I do admit, that would have been a public relations nightmare."

"Public relations," Sarah said incredulously, unsure if she had actually just heard the Goblin King worrying about how the public in general viewed him.

Jareth nodded. "Unfortunately, in this new hybrid world that we live in, I must be somewhat concerned about what regards my subjects hold me in." He paused, a look of distaste flashing across his features. "At least, that's what my Steward tells me. There are people that I pay to deal with these things," he said with a sigh.

"You have a P.R. Department. Hilarious. Is there a Bog-Beautification Council, too?" she asked with a laugh.

"No, thankfully." Jareth leaned back, considering the creature twined with the strange oak tree across the room from him, the strange feeling that he had come to recognize as the Animus within him curling within him as he stared hard at her.

"When were you in the Labyrinth?" he asked, finally.

Sarah's heart leapt into her throat before she swallowed it back down. She forced herself to show him a small smile as she thought back on the words that she had spoken to him over the days that he'd been her guest. "I don't remember ever having said that I was there, Goblin King," she said, skirting his question neatly, her smile widening.

"How else would you have known about the bog?" he asked, thinking that he had trapped her within her own words.

"What bog?" she asked instead, feigning ignorance. He deflated mentally.

"The bog of eternal stench," Jareth replied neutrally.

"Pleasant," she commented sarcastically, covering neatly. "Perhaps you should look into forming that committee after all." It came out sounding helpful before her grin returned.

"The bog hasn't been in existence since the merge," he said, his upper lip beginning to curl.

"Oh," she said airily. "Then maybe a Bog-Forming Committee before you attempt to beautify it?" Dean, from aside the king, snorted and hopped off the couch, wandering away.

Jareth quirked an arched eyebrow, distracted from the current conversation by the wolf's departure. "Well. Nothing like being told you're a bore by the resident wolf," Jareth said flippantly, watching his tail bob out of sight around a corner.

"Don't take it personally," Sarah said with a grin. "He's probably headed off to chase his brothers or harass the chickens."

"Oh, by all means, then. Let them harass their chickens. Filthy beasts."

"Back to the task at hand," Sarah said, redirecting. "Do you have any suggestions on how to return you safely to where you're supposed to be? Mind you, I'm only asking because I'm sure you won't like my ideas."

"What makes you so sure that I want to leave?"

"Would you rather be stabbed again?" she asked lightly. "I'm sure it can be arranged." Jareth smirked.

"Really now."

"Yes, really. I swear, it feels like I'm talking to a toddler," she commented.

"Hardly," Jareth said, somewhat affronted.

"What do you suggest, then?"

"I'll be leaving in the same manner in which I arrived," he said confidently.

"Wet, lost, and in danger?"

"I flew in, and I can fly back out," he said, quietly entertained by her quip despite himself.

"You're in no condition to fly, Goblin King."

"What makes you an appropriate judge of my condition?"

"I think the iron shavings that I removed from your neck are all the qualification that I really need, don't you?" Jareth grimaced. "Think about it. You know I'm right. The only reason that you're even able to be sitting there and aren't dead asleep right now is that you're feeding off of my magic."

"My magic is intact," he argued indignantly.

"Stop trying to grandstand. Your magic is intact, true, but you're nearly to the point of overtaxing your admittedly formidable power. Iron poisoning will do that to you," she pointed out. He grimaced, sighing. Damn it all, she was right; he'd nearly dropped from exhaustion when she took off from Di'shik'de's.

"I'm not an invalid," Jareth complained.

"You can barely stand."

"Fine," he conceded with a sigh, because he knew she wasn't far from the truth. "What are these ideas that I'd hate?"

"We're going to take the interstate up to Chicago."

"You're right. I hate it." He tilted his head slightly. "It might work."


	23. Chapter 22 By Your Leave

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Published: 27 February 2010

* * *

The day dawned bright, clear, and warm in the valley. The sun peeked slowly over the tree line, rising in the western sky as it had done since the merge; its pale rays filtered through the lingering fog that clung valiantly to the low tree branches, dappling the ground with light. The cries of the birds were bordering cacophonous as Toby leaned into the Jeep CJ, pushing it out onto the tarmac in front of the airplane hangar-turned-greenhouse with the help of the boys. The four-wheeler and the street bikes had been moved to free the path to the old camouflaged green beast from inside the shed, and sat against one another a little ways down.

Frankie and Peter immediately got into a mostly-friendly spat over who which of them would get to ride the red bike when they were done. It happened to be the family favourite. As the spat turned into a ground-bound scuffle, complete with teeth snapping and fur flying, Dean shrugged hopped onto the bike, starting it up without a word. Everything stopped as Peter and Frankie heard the engine roar to life, and the squeal of tires spinning, slipping, and finally catching the asphalt as the bike sped off down the tarmac and into the valley. Yipping indignantly, Dean's brothers tore off after him at full-speed as he drove the bike away from them with a smile.

Toby laughed, shaking his head as he took the rag to the oiled leather seats, cleaning them off. His tool kit gleamed at him from the driver's side seat. Toby set about checking that everything was still in working order. It wouldn't do to have them break down halfway down the tarmac before even reaching a proper road.

Jareth woke to find himself contorted awkwardly on the bed in the room that he had been given to sleep in for the duration of his stay. He blinked into the sunlight which was streaming down into the room and warming his face where it hit. He was feeling miles better than he felt the day before, though he was sure that he had fallen asleep on the couch in the strange, homey living room on the lower level of the base. Jareth had no recollection of either moving or having been moved.

Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back away from his face and back into its stylish disarray trying to recover his memories of the previous night. He sighed, thinking that it had to have been Lilith who moved him; the boys surely would have woken him in transit, or just left him there all together. The idea didn't bother him as much as he thought it should, Lilith moving him while he slept. At least she hadn't undressed him.

He caught the scent of cinnamon as it wafted through his room and quirked his head, a gesture reminiscent of his avian form. Tossing the covers to one side, he rose, trying his legs out gingerly. A pleased hum escaped him as he found that he could stand easily. The bone-deep weariness that accompanied iron poisoning was but a memory; a fount of energy welled as he called his magic to his fingertips, using it to freshen up. Jareth smirked, pleased.

His nose drew him along the hallway as he stepped out of the room, pausing only long enough to visit the loo before the smell pulled him down to the first level, and directly into the kitchens. Cinnamon rolls were the source of the heavenly scent, he realized as he stepped into the sun-lit room made homey by the modifications afforded it.

Lilith stood in front of the window, her arms elbow-deep in the dish-filled sink as she washed seemingly on auto-pilot. Her goldenrod hair caught the sunlight, and it seemed to sparkle in the dappled rays as she turned her face to him. Eyes that were chillingly familiar greeted him from their set within the mask of Lilith. Then, she blinked, and when her eyes revealed themselves once more, they were the same matte green with which he had become familiar.

"Morning," she said, not giving him time to dwell on it. Another mark in the mystery column, he supposed. Her voice was a gravelly with disuse as she leaned back against the counter top.

"Morning," he responded in kind.

"Coffee?" she offered. He smirked, noting that the coffee brewed in the press was nearly gone. Clearly, he thought, she was not a creature of dawn today, unlike himself.

"Please." She nodded, drying her hands on a pale blue dish towel, and moving to retrieve a wide-mouthed mug from a nearby cabinet. She poured the remainder of the coffee from the French press into it, careful not to get the muddy grounds at the bottom into the pour. The mug's rim was chipped, and it looked more the worse for wear, showing its age, despite clearly having been taken care of for a long time; much like most of the things at this place.

Sarah saw him eying the chipped mug and frowned before she could stop herself. "Sorry," she said, feeling oddly sheepish. She turned to find another mug that was in better shape.

"No," he said quickly, leaning forward against the table, his thin hand catching her free arm gently. It was more than enough to make her stop, her spun-gold hair falling down over her ear from the clip she had it held back in. "It's fine. Really," he added at her look of slight disbelief and skepticism.

"As you say," she conceded finally, setting the coffee down on the table for him. Jareth was quiet except for a soft sigh as he relished the slight burn and bitter roast-berry taste, letting the coffee warm him as it slid down his throat. Jareth found himself tonguing the chip on the mug's rim before he realized that it fit carefully, perfectly, against the point of his upper lip. Idly, he ran the chip over his lips once or twice just to feel the texture, his eyes unfocused and his mind miles away.

After a moment, he snapped out of his idle reverie and looked up to see amused green eyes glimmer strangely at him from across the kitchen. He busied himself, dipping the cinnamon roll into his steaming coffee, sucking the liquid out of it before he ate it, his eyes widening at the sweet, buttery taste. She turned with a smirk to finish the dishes as the thunderous stampede of the boys came hurtling down the hallway, all three sporting bruises, bite marks, and huge grins. Jareth raised an eyebrow.

"Who needs goblins?" he commented, taking another deep drink from the mug and staring at the road rash along Dean's arm. "You have wolves."

"We have goblins, too," Peter said happily, washing his hands before even attempting to touch the food that his Lady had cooked. Jareth, despite himself, was impressed at Lilith's apparent training ability. "They taste awful," he commented with a moue of remembered disgust as he took a couple of cinnamon rolls, stuffing one into his mouth whole. He tore the others into pieces, and tossed them, one at a time, through the air. Dean snagged the first one, still appearing as a human boy, and while he was chewing contentedly on it, Frankie snatched up two others; one was devoured instantly, and the other made its way surreptitiously into his pocket.

"You tried to eat a goblin?" Jareth asked finally in disbelief.

"It was pestering me. I went to bite it, and it tasted so bad I had to spit it out. Made everything taste like swamp gas for a week," he grimaced.

"That'll teach you to eat things that smell like that," Sarah said with a smile.

"It did," he said solemnly, then went quiet and turned as he heard a muffled snicker from beside him. Peter turned in disbelief to look at the Goblin King, who, until this point, had been nothing but stone-faced or angry.

Jareth finally had to let loose with a full-bodied laugh which, after only a moment, had the boys in stitches despite not knowing what they were laughing at. Sarah turned to watch, a smirk twisting her lips at the infectious laughter which had spread throughout the kitchen. Toby stepped through the archway, barking out a laugh as he saw the boys on the floor, collapsed against one another.

"What happened here?" he asked his sister. She shrugged, her lip turning up despite her best efforts not to let it.

"What is it, Goblin King? Share!" she prodded, her quirk turning into a grin.

After he was able to collect himself, he started with a smirk which wrinkled his regal nose and a deep breath. "Not too long after the merge, there was an incident. As you probably know, the Labyrinth encompassed part of Chicago, and wound its way through the southern neighborhoods. The castle apparently completely displaced a ball park, so it overlooks the Lake Michigan shoreline. Therein lives a sea monster of sorts.

"The first winter following the merge, before safeguards were in place, some goblins went out to play on the ice that formed on the lake, and promptly fell through it. The beast swallowed two or three of them whole. After a couple of hours of indigestion, it gave up the fight and spat them back up. One of the little buggers had the stones to chastise the monster, and it almost looked repentant. At the very least, the foul taste of the goblins had taught it that not everything that falls into the lake is fit for digestion."

* * *

"Everything's set," Sam said, latching the door on the back of the CJ, pulling the tarp-like top down over it, and securing the straps to the frame. Peter, Dean, and Frankie were in the middle of a quick slightly-modified championship version of Rochambeau to decide which of the two would go and who would stay.

"So, what's the plan?" Jareth asked loudly, trying and failing to speak over Dean's outraged cry of 'NO! Paper discredits Spock!'

"Well," Toby started, suppressing a grin, "we have three working vehicles right now. A sport bike, the CJ, and my four-wheeler. The Di'shik'de have more vehicles on the way within another day or so, just in case. I figured that you and Lily and two of the boys could at least get a start in the CJ, which is the most roadworthy of the bunch right now, and we'll follow if you need us to. Now that the satellite is up and running, we'll at least have communication. I packed a satellite phone in the bag," he said turning to his sister. "All you have to do is use your magic to power it up, and make sure you stay in this part of the world, and have a line of sight to the sky, or can connect to something which has a line of sight to the sky."

"Using our magic as batteries again, Brother?"

"Why not?" he reasoned.

"How long will the drive take?" Jareth asked, his eyebrow arching upward as he eyed the CJ critically, wondering if it would fall to pieces from beneath them.

"Ideally, it's about an 8-hour drive or so. We're leaving this early so we can try and avoid nightfall. There's about eleven hours of solid daylight, and it gets dark around five-thirty in Chicago, unless I'm mistaken. So. Onward," she answered, grabbing onto the roll bar and hauling herself into the CJ. The seat groaned as she squirmed to get comfortable, slamming the thin canvas door behind her and leaning out the window with a grin.

"Hop in, Goblin King," she said, pumping the gas a couple times and firing the old beast up. It roared to life as Dean and Peter leapt in through the passenger side leaving Frankie moping on the tarmac beside the Jeep.

"Bring me back a fairy to chase," he demanded. Dean quirked his lips, nodding at his little brother. Frankie's eyes lit up, glowing eerily red even in the bright sunlight as he smiled.

Jareth ruffled Frankie's hair as he steeled himself, walking around the front of the grumbling vehicle. He pulled himself up and into the cab bodily as he had seen Lilith do. The cracked leather of the seats cushioned him easily as he sat back. He saw Lilith looking at him with a strange tilt to her head and sent her a questioning glance.

She smiled as she said, "You look particularly out of place."

Indeed, he felt it. His jaw clenched a little, though he tried to stop it. He could imagine the picture he made; the white linen of his ruffled shirt, worn soft with time, overlapping his fitted gray slacks; the legs of his trousers tucked neatly into his black hide boots. The King of the Goblins being ferried back to his lands in a steel beast made by man. If his court ever saw this, they'd throw a proper fit. Hell, when his Steward saw him arrive, he may very well keel over, Jareth thought with a sigh. He hoped he wouldn't have to train a new Steward.

"Sorry," she offered a moment later, seeing his discomfiture. "We'll have you back Kinging Goblins in a little while."

"Have a care, Sister," Toby said softly, leaning in and pecking a kiss on her forehead which she accepted with a smile.

"Have your own care, Brother," she replied, just to sass.

"Fine; drive fast, swerve, and hit things."

"I intend to. I'll call you on the satellite when we arrive," she said. "We'll pass through the perimeter in about five minutes. Watch for Sisk, and attack with everything you have if he finds this place."

"Count on it," he said. Jareth was not at all comforted by the grin he gave which did not reach past his lips.


	24. Chapter 23 Travelling Entertainment

All standard disclaimers apply. Sorry for the long updated. Life, and all that. Here's a long chapter. Toodles!

Originally Posted 08 April 2010

* * *

Three hours on the road found the travelers out of wooded northern Kentucky and into the nearly-identical terrain of wooded southern Indiana. The Goblin King had fallen soundly asleep nearly an hour ago, and the boys had nodded off longer ago than even that. Sarah was at the wheel, a hundred thoughts swirling through her already over-laden mind. Earlier events had not helped her calm her thoughts.

When Sarah headed the Jeep through town, Rose had come after them as they rumbled past her café, calling and waving at them like she had caught fire. Sarah answered Jareth's almost irritated look with a sheepish smile as she slowed the Jeep, its tires murmuring against the cobblestones as she pulled to a stop. The king sighed as Rose finally caught up, leaning his chin against the heel of his hand as his elbow rested against the canvas door's frame.

"What the hell is going on?" Rose yelled breathlessly as she caught up. "Harlan Sisk has lost his mind... Well, whatever may have been left of it. He murdered the bleeding mayor last night. And in the middle of town, mind you! Mayor Broholm was on his way to catch his morning cuppa, and Sisk..."

Jareth whipped his head around to face Rose so quickly that Sarah thought she heard his neck crack. "The elf is dead?" he asked, an unreadable expression on his slackened features. Rose nodded madly.

"Sisk had a bunch of people with him that I've never seen before. I swear, when they left Broholm in a heap in the street and walked away like they'd just thrown away the trash, it shot ice right through me."

"How did he die?" Jareth asked, staring at her intently.

"They were just talking one moment, then Sisk started screaming something. One of the ones with him... It pulled a bandage off of its face, and just looked at the mayor. He turned sheet white and dropped to the ground, dead. No one was brave enough to go help the mayor until well after all of them had gone," she said, quite obviously still shaken as she looked around her, then focused back on Sarah.

Sarah didn't think it was possible for the Goblin King to look paler than he did at that moment, even with the healing remains of iron poisoning.

"Rose," Sarah said quietly. "Take September and Vianne and have a vacation. Go south. Somewhere warm. You really want to be going in the complete opposite direction if Sisk is going after what I think he is. I'll find you when it's over," she assured Rose, reaching out and grasping her trembling hand in delicate fingers.

"Where?" she asked, fisting her other hand in her apron absentmindedly.

"Anywhere," Sarah replied, turning to reach into the Jeep's armrest console. She pulled out a small linen pouch by the drawstrings and set it in Rose's hands, opening it up gently and spreading the mouth wide. Coin struck in a strange silver metal glittered as the sun gleamed down onto it. Sarah made a gently closed fist above the pouch, a measure of black sand poured down and around the coins. "Just go. Don't come back until I find you. Keep it with you. There's enough inside to take care of any monetary problems you may come across."

Rose stared Sarah hard in the face, her teeth clenched tightly as she considered her friend. "There will be a full, complete, and unabridged story waiting on your tongue when you come find me," she demanded finally, her voice shaking slightly.

Sarah nodded, grasping her friend's hand again. "Stay safe. Don't tell anyone where you're going. Have Eddie watch over the place for you," she suggested. Rose scoffed and turned, casting one last worried look Sarah's way as she headed the Jeep out of town and out toward I-23 North.

Sarah shook off her thoughts and returned her mind presently to the winding, wooded road.

It was a while before Jareth started stirring, a golden beam of sunlight catching his napping face as the road banked to the left around a hill that may as well have been a mountain in training. He grumbled and pushed himself upright, having slumped back into the seat in his sleep. Sarah glanced over at him, then back to the road.

"Have a nice nap?" she asked. His response was a deep groaning sigh and a yawn as he stretched out.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice oddly melodious despite its sleep-roughened tones.

"Barely into Indiana," she replied, sounding amused. "You missed the Ohio River about five minutes ago," she said.

"Mm," he intoned noncommittally. "Not much to miss," he muttered, stifling a jaw-cracking yawn. He really did look like a big cat waking, she mused to herself.

"Got about five hours to go, your Kingness. How are you holding up?" Sarah asked with a slight smile in his direction.

"Didn't mean to fall asleep," he said, blinking blearily and sitting up straighter in the seat.

"It's no problem. I used to fall asleep on car rides. Something about the rumble and bump of the road and curling into a particularly comfortable beam of sunlight," she admitted, surprising herself. Where had that admission come from, and why was she telling the Goblin King, of all people.

Jareth watched her appraisingly, seeing her shift as if to get comfortable in her skin again. She hadn't noticed that her glamour was starting to slip, and he wasn't about to tell her - her hair was shimmering strangely in the sunlight as it filtered through the treeline.

"Where did you live before the merge?" he asked, oddly struck by a need to put a location to his mental image of her fast asleep in a car. It was like his mind had caught its tongue on a bit of information. The knowledge was right there, prodding at him. He knew if he let this go, it would torture him until he found his answer.

Sarah ran her tongue over her bottom lip, not looking at Jareth, wondering how to answer his question without outright lying to him. "I'm a born-and-raised New Englander. I was going to school in Cullowhee, North Carolina when the worlds merged."

"If you were a city girl, why did you move all the way out to a forest, on a mountain, in the middle of nowhere?"

"I've had bad experiences with people trying to destroy me, if you recall. Maybe the Blue Ridge Mountains just got into my head."

"You live in proximity to a town."

"Only barely. And until recently, no one gave it a thought. I was just the strange woman with three kids and her brother out in the woods. Then, the Great and Wondrous Goblin King shows up and takes an interest in me," she said somewhat sourly.

He raised an eyebrow, shifting against the seat to turn himself toward her. "You didn't seem to take offense at the time," he defended, a strange look on his face.

"I was the only one that you danced with at a major local festival. It's bound to attract attention. If I had known that you weren't going to even offer to dance with anyone else, I wouldn't have danced with you either."

"No one else held any interest for me. They only see me as the King. You seem to see me as something more," he hedged, trying to bait her.

"A menace?" she suggested lightly, the corner of her lips quirking up in a wry smile.

"Not precisely what I meant." He looked almost put-out at that.

"What would you have preferred?" she asked, the quirk still in place. "Soul mate, perhaps?"

"Don't make a joke of it," he snapped, mismatched eyes flashing in the sunlight, unamused at her attempt at levity.

She looked over at him, ignoring the road for just a moment, "There's no joke in the apparent fact that, even if you don't like me, your body responds to me and reacts quite noticeably to my touch," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. Jareth looked too affronted, and perhaps slightly mortified, to really reply the way he wanted to; calmly and pointedly.

"I suppose," Sarah said with a glance his way, having decided to cut him some slack, "that I could have said 'friend.'"

Her statement was punctuated with the tentative offer of her hand, her delicate fingers curving slightly upward in the mottled sunlight that filtered through the trees and the hills. Jareth hesitated only slightly before slipping his still-bare hand into hers. His hand was large and cool in her own, his pale fingers curling almost all the way around her own. Sarah shot him a smile as the pale gold glow moved to cover his entire hand and then went to cover the rest of his arm.

"I suppose it's a start," he said softly, his words promising that he was not going to be content with merely a friend; especially a friend that his soul screamed and reached out for so fervently.

Sarah thought she felt him shiver slightly in her grasp - though, admittedly, it could just have been the road, she reasoned - as his skin flared gold, its radiance rivaling that of the mid-day sun. She felt something else, then; something that she hadn't thought she would be able to feel from just touching his hand.

"I can feel your heartbeat," she said softly, her head quirking slightly toward him in question. Jareth pulled his hand away quickly, rubbing it slowly as if to rid himself of the feeling of pins and needles. Sarah glanced down at her fingertips; some of the golden glow from Jareth's skin lingered, ebbing faintly as she tried to shake it off discreetly. It held on more tightly if anything. She sighed and put that hand back on the steering wheel, hoping that he hadn't noticed. "What?" she asked, noticing that he had been staring at her.

He shook his head. "My heart doesn't actively beat except under duress," he explained.

"Undead much?" she asked. "Should I go get the zombie repellent?"

He shot her a look that spoke volumes. Long, irritated volumes. He sighed, and his voice took on a schooling tone. "Descendants of the Ancients don't need active circulation. We have a system of smooth muscle around the veins and arteries that serves as a continuous passive circulatory system. Our hearts don't kick in unless we exert ourselves, or are, as I said, under duress."

"You're saying I stress you out, then?"

"I have a feeling that you were specifically created to vex me."

"Right back at you. Any time you want to get out of the car, buddy. Make sure to tuck and roll," she quipped.

"Really, though," he said, redirecting. "What are you running from all the way out here?"

She thought for a moment, ignoring his scrutinizing gaze as she thought of a way to phrase her answer that wouldn't be an outright lie. "When the merge first hit," she started after a moment, "I had no idea what was going on. Our family died in front of our eyes. When we came around after the quaking and the thunder and the blood had died down, we found ourselves hurt, alone, and terrified. The sky was on fire. We were deaf from the scream of the metal, and blinded by the fire around us. That day was hell come to earth, Goblin King," she said pointedly. "My first thought was that this was somehow my fault."

"Why would you have thought yourself to have been the cause of the worlds merging?" She shrugged, but he wasn't about to let it go at that. "No," he said sharply. "Why would you have thought that?"

"Because my brother and I made a wish." Jareth went stock-still, and she tried not to squirm under the weight of his stare.

"What was this wish?"

"He wished that the fairy tales that I told him as a child were real. I said it, too."

Jareth's back hit the seat with a sigh of relief. She looked at him questioningly.

"What?" she finally asked.

"That would not have caused the Underground to become one with the Aboveground again," he said, resting the back of his hand over his eyes, relieved. "That wish would have been tantamount to wishing water was wet."

"Oh," she said, oddly comforted by that herself. They lapsed into a mostly-comfortable silence that lasted for a handful of minutes afterward. The boys were soundly asleep in the back seat, only the occasional yip or growl breaking the silence.

"Why are you alone?" he asked out of the blue, aiming to get the upper hand in this conversation. "You could have anyone. Be anyone."

Sarah gritted her teeth, her hands tightening around the steering wheel as she remained silent, not sure if she should respond at all.

"Someone in your past, then?" Reluctantly, she nodded. "Are they gone?"

"No."

"Then why aren't you with them? Him?"

Sarah sighed. "It's not that simple. It never is."

"It's not the Di'shik'de, is it? I can have them banished, if you like," he offered, trying to sound noble, but coming across as jealous.

"No, no," she answered. "Not them. They've been good friends over the years. Especially in regards to their inherent grasp of technology and the repair thereof. They've been very handy about getting me the parts that I need."

"There is no deeper relationship?" he asked. It sounded more like a growled command. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"Even if there was, it would have nothing to do with either you or the current topic," she said, her voice light; her expression, however, was telling him to mind his next words very carefully lest he find himself back at the tender mercies of the beasts of black sand and moonlight.

"It's not the elves that you're running from."

"No." She settled further back in to the seat. He was staring at her, impatiently waiting for some form of an explanation. Sarah sighed. "I hurt someone a very long time ago," she admitted as stoically as she could manage. "Despite feelings that I was too naïve to know were mutual, he scared me quite badly. And in my haste to retreat, I hurt him quite badly with my words. I'll be surprised to find out if he ever actually forgave me."

"Did you love this man?" The pain in the King's voice was palpable though he tried to disguise it; Sarah felt that she could reach out, hold it in her hand like so much liquid, and watch it soak into the ground as she let it slip away. He recognized now that her situation was akin to his own in some ways.

He was staring out the window, waiting as she pondered her answer.

"I..." she started, then paused, tightening her grip on the steering wheel as the Jeep barreled around another gentle curve. "At the time, I was infatuated," she said carefully.

"Infatuation?" he asked without turning his face from the window. He was watching intently, though; she realized that he was staring at her reflection in the glass instead of actually watching her. Sarah took a mental inventory of her glamour; intact, but needed a reinforcement. Her eyes re-solidified into the emerald of Lilith's once again.

"As I said, I was very young when I first met him. He was older than I in more ways than I realized at the time. He was handsome in a not-quite-conventional way. He pursued my affections anyway, offering me everything, and I didn't understand..." she paused for a moment, then continued. "I didn't understand that he didn't intend to take everything else from me in return. I was afraid, and I said things that I didn't necessarily mean to hurt him. To make him go away."

"Why are you still running, though? He may not even have survived the merge," he said softly, not intending to barb her.

"I've seen him since."

"Have you," he said, surprised. "Has he seen you?" She nodded, affirming.

"He has seen me, but did not recognize me as I am now."

"So this man is why you hide your name and face, even to those whom you trust?"

"That is not my only reason, but yes."

"Were you famous?" She considered her answer, a conversation she had with Hoggle late one night came to mind.

"They can't stop talking about 'yeh," he had said in awe, his bright eyes wide with amazement. "Yeh've actually become the only mortal to ever best Jareth's blasted maze!"

"You can't be serious!" she had exclaimed, running her fingertips over the edge of the mirror. "We'd be hearing about kids disappearing nonstop if he had taken that many children from the Aboveground."

"He had dominion over time, Sarah. He can make people forget like nothin' ever happened. Most of 'em just take their dreams and stumble away like puppets. But you didn't."

"It's not like he can do anything about it, though." She had paused, thinking about it. "Can he?" she whispered, then, suddenly afraid again of the Goblin King finding her.

"Not to you," Hoggle had said pointedly, casting his gaze down at his hands. "Yeh've got the power he gave yeh, missy. The Labyrinth is yers teh call, so be careful with her. You are the Lady of the Labyrinth."

Snapping back to her current conversation, she considered. Well, the entire Labyrinth apparently knew her; she supposed that counted for something.

"Yeah," she said finally. "I was kinda well-known."

"Does he haunt you so? You cannot even answer a simple question without fear. Will you ever escape him so that you can just live?" he asked, getting frustrated at her contemplations.

"Perhaps," she said softly. "Perhaps in time, when everyone forgets me," she said with a sad smile, the road reflected in her falsely green eyes.

"How could anyone ever hope to forget one such as yourself? I never will," he said with certainty.

"Flattery, Goblin King. It will get you everywhere," she said with a smile.

"Really?" he asked with a look that was almost a leer. She laughed, disarming him. "I've only just met you a week past, and I couldn't forget you if I tried to."

"Time makes fools of us all."

"Time is the one thing that I have on my side. Usually," he amended. "I can pull the day into night, reorder time, steal hours away, give them back..."

"You exist outside of time," she said, cutting his oncoming speech off before it got started.

"Yes," he said simply, watching her as if she could suddenly read minds.

"You're like the Doctor without a TARDIS," she elaborated, watching a look of vague recognition wash over him. "You should be wearing pinstripes or a scarf," she said,chuckling as she was struck by an image of the Goblin King trying to kick a Dalek. "You'd look good in them," she said, casting a grin his way.

"I look quite good without them," he retorted, suddenly snippy, aware that he was being laughed at, but not quite getting the reason why.

"You're certainly in a mood." He shrugged, having no reply. "You'll feel better once you're safe at home, and the Labyrinth can heal you up properly."

"Everything will go back to normal," he said softly. Sarah worried at his tone, just a little, but nodded matter-of-factly, thinking that she could return to blissful anonymity after this. She was disconcerted to notice that, the more she thought about going home without him, the less appeal it held.

"What's the frown for?" he asked, having been watching her for these last moments.

"Just thinking. Sisk is probably following us." Two completely disconnected statements, trying to sound like they belonged together. "Nothing to worry yourself over."

His eyes narrowed, studying her. He put his hand out, letting it hover over hers on the steering wheel where she had hidden the still-glowing skin. "That's not true," he said simply.

"Now you're a lie detector?" she asked.

"Your Animus squirms when you lie to me," he said, looking at her as if he were studying a dissected creature in biology. "I thought I felt it when you were speaking to me before. Now I know what that feeling was. Like a twisting in my brain," he said, his words clipped and his tone cool. "I don't appreciate you lying to me." With that, he turned back to stare out the passenger side window once again.

"You make it seem like everything I speak to you about is a complete lie," she said grumpily, beginning to get offended.

"How do I know it isn't? You won't even tell me who you are!" he replied.

"You know who I am," she argued. "You know me better than anyone except my brother and the boys. Why can't you just let it go?" she asked, getting testy, just waiting for her lower eyelid to get a tic.

"Because I want to know more. You're fascinating, more than anyone else has been to me in a very long time."

She stared at him for a moment, her anger fading away like blood in a stream before the road called her attention back to it. "I really don't see what I've even done to merit your attentions. I'm just trying to live my life."

"Then why are you alone?"

"I'm not. I have my brother and the boys. I have friends in town, like Rose. And I have Jet and Jack, too."

Jareth huffed a sigh. "You have no lover that I've seen, or you've mentioned. You surround yourself with people and still you're alone in your crowd."

"So that's what you were trying to get at," she realized. "What makes you so sure that I don't?"

Jareth went silent. He had assumed that there was no one waiting in the wings; what if he had been wrong, he thought.

"She has no lover," came Peter's voice from the back of the Jeep, breaking the silence that had ensued.

"Oi!" she exclaimed, indignantly amused. "You're not supposed to be helping him, Peter." A smile cracked her freckled face.

"Fine," he relented, leaning in close to the Goblin King's ear. "She beds the Di'shik'de nightly," he growled with a grin. Jareth bristled. "She's irritable because she hasn't gotten any since you arrived."

"Also not helpful," she sighed, laughing a little. The boy really knew how to break tension. He flopped back against the seats, jostling his brother who slept on soundly.

"What? Do you want me to tell him that you're a eunuch, then?" he asked, his poker face still in place, but his eyes giving away his sparkling mirth.

"Peter!" she hissed. "Shut it!"

Jareth chuckled. "Thanks for trying," he said with a wink to the boy.

"Anything to get you two to stop flirting. I'm trying to nap here."

Once Peter had settled back in, leaning heavily against his brother, who was still sound asleep, he again drifted off into his own dozy little world.

"What were you really thinking when I asked?" he tried again, giving her another chance.

She sighed, knowing when to pick her battles. "I was thinking that it would feel strange not to have you with us when we return home. And also, that Sisk is probably following us."

"Why was that so difficult to admit?" he asked, pleased that he had, at least, left an impression.

Sarah looked chagrined as she said softly in response, "I'm not really sure. I suppose I've gotten somewhat used to having someone else around. You do have quite a presence, you know," she said, knowing it would re-inflate his omnipresent ego.

"I'm glad you think so," he preened, some of the arrogant King that Sarah had known peeking through this new facade.

"So what should I expect when we pull into the Labyrinth?" Sarah asked, steering the conversation back to safer topics.

Jareth puffed out an amused breath. "My Steward will probably faint with relief. I've been gone long enough that past of the High Court may have tried to convene. The Queen of Las Vegas will probably be loitering about, and the Prince of New York will have tried to usurp my throne at least once."

Sarah turned to stare at him incredulously. "You're serious," she realized.

"Absolutely," he smiled, leaning his head against the headrest. "It's become almost a game for us, to tell you the truth. I think he does it now just to keep me on my toes."

"How would he be able to usurp you?"

"He keeps claiming a birthright. What he doesn't realize is I'm not actually related to anyone on the High Council anymore, so a birthright to the Goblin Kingdom is nigh impossible, unless it's coming from a ghost. The Council's populated with friends and allies, mostly, but my last cousin went to the Summer Lands just before the merge. The latest ploy that he's trying to pitch to the Council is that I'm not fit to rule due to my ... noticeable lack of a Queen," he said, sounding chagrined more than anything.

Sarah nodded, unsure of how to respond to him. "Could they make you take a Queen?" she asked finally.

"They can't make me, per say," he said with a dark sigh, and Sarah thought that there was going to be more to that statement. "But they can certainly nag me half to death about it. It feels as if they've got me living with my neck on a chopping block equipped with a detonator."

Colourful," she cringed. "Sounds like the nagging has already started."

"Oh, yes. The nagging, the cajoling, the pleading... They all started long, long before the merge ever happened," he said with a faraway look.

"Is there a deadline?"

Her only answer was an indelicate snort. "Wonderful turn-of-phrase, there."

They were quiet for a moment, thoughts brewing. "What's this Fae Glow going to do once everyone finds out about it?" she asked, dreading the response that she feared she'd get.

"It's certainly not going to make my life in Court any easier. A story that I've been force-fed all my life turns out to be true," he said, gritting his teeth. "Finding out that there's a legitimate foundation to the Animus myth hasn't been the most settling fact that I've learned out here. Neither has the fact that my complement is a creature such as yourself, no offense intended. I don't even know what you are."

"No offense taken. I don't know what I am either."

"It's particularly unsettling that, even if something were to come of you and I, I cannot offer you my song," he admitted uncomfortably.

"Song?" Sarah's eyebrows knitted together.

He sighed, apparently irritated at her social naïvety, as he explained tersely. "Fae souls have a lyrical representation. I sang mine to a mortal in a moment of foolishness, knowing that I had her, and intending to keep my prize, and had it thrown back at me for all my efforts. I cannot give something that I don't have anymore."

"You gave your soul to her?" Sarah tried to keep her voice steady, her tone light as she asked, realizing that it was her that she was speaking about. He nodded, looking out the window at the passing landscape. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, digesting this new bit of information.

"Yes, I basically handed her my soul and kingdom on a platter," he said bitterly. "And what did she go and do? She throws a chair through the glass of a ballroom that had been part of the Labyrinth for aeons. She runs off, solves my damn Labyrinth, and then rejects me again," he said, pausing to emphasis the sheer audacity that his remembered Sarah had possessed. "I was practically begging her," he hissed, turning his eyes to his folded hands.

"You're still bent out of shape about being rejected? Two hundred years later?" she asked incredulously, her eyes wide as saucers. The glare she got in response could have frozen fire.

"Even after she trounced me at my own game - and in less than eleven hours, might I add - but then, she said the words that banned me from ever coming into direct contact with her. I was exiled to the point that I couldn't save her from a horrible death even if I didn't already have a runner. I could have broken Canon to save her had she not said the words. I would have abandoned the Game and the Runner in the Labyrinth to go to her, hang the consequences."

"Did you ever think that she may not have known any of this?" Sarah asked, chewing on her lip. She still thought it strange to be referring to her younger self in the third person.

"What?"

"Well, for one, how would she have known that you basically offered your soul up on a silver platter?" She whipped her head around, checking that there was no one around before she changed lanes to avoid a downed branch in the road, sighing. The roads were barely maintained beyond the basics anymore; almost no one used them, instead opting for the transport arenas to get them where they needed to go.

"I had not considered that at the time," he said slowly, trying to defend himself. "But she made it known that she didn't care what it was that it was that she was throwing away. I tried again after she actually solved the Labyrinth, and she said the words that sealed me from her. I was relegated to watch from afar as she lived what little life she had left. I realized, too late, that she was too young to comprehend that which was on offer."

"You can't give your song to anyone else, even if you wanted to?"

"No; she still possessed it when she was taken from me," he said, his voice taking on that disconcerting note of sadness that it encompassed when he spoke of Sarah.

She had to tell him, she realized. Sooner or later, it would come out on its own. Seeing the Goblin King almost incapacitated by grief, though he put on a brave show of it, tore at her. She knew she couldn't let it go on. Before she left, she decided. Before she took off to go back home, she would tell him that Sarah still lived. Perhaps, she thought, it would give him at least some measure of comfort.

"Hm," she breathed, trying to get her swirling mind to still. Sarah tried to think neutral thoughts as the conversation shifted again, and the miles passed in mostly amiable silence and idle chatter.


	25. Chapter 24 Side Trip

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally posted 21 June 2010.

* * *

The temperature of the wind buffeting the Jeep had dropped considerably since passing into Indiana territory. The meager heat offered by the Jeep's blowers was swept away via the drafts flowing through the vehicle, and the blanket pilfered from the trunk in the back seat did little to keep the Goblin King from shivering. It unnerved him to realize that he still wasn't at full strength. The ambient temperature normally did little to bother him.

"Shit," Sarah complained softly, watching the horizon come into view as they crested the hill. Jareth stirred against the seat, turning his eyes forward. It took him only a moment to notice the wall of pendulous clouds looming ahead of them.

Peter leaned in close, speaking softly over the buzz of the tires against the broken asphalt and the fluttering of the canvas. "I smell snow, Lady."

"And here I was, hoping not to have to drive into Mordor today," she said, an irritated edge creeping into her voice. "So much for making good time. Hopefully, this will let up, but make sure to keep tabs on the exit markers just in case it doesn't," she said, not addressing anyone in particular as they drove into the face of the oncoming storm.

Harrowing hours later, they were truly in the thick of things. Snow fell in huge, fluffy, deceptively cute flakes, which clumped together and clung and gathered on everything. The interstate was covered in a coat of more than six inches of sparkling beauty already, and the skies ahead offered no sign of a timely respite. The Jeep was able to cut a tenuous path through the icy fluff, but was not having an easy time of it; the tires slipped and skidded and spun against the asphalt covered in the powder-puff white menace, despite Sarah's careful piloting, severely decreased speed, and the blessedly flat terrain of the interstate.

Twilight had fallen, and the road had all but vanished beneath the snow long before it started to pile into drifts. Tracks from the few travelers preceding them spun off and disappeared into the consuming white abyss beyond their field of vision. Still, the tires spun valiantly, trying to keep the Jeep on a straight track as the ever increasingly wicked wind swept mercilessly across from the northwest. The airborne snow eddied across the packed tracks that Sarah was following as she tried to judge the road's location based on proximity to the side rails and long-defunct light poles along the roadside by the interstate exits.

Through her intense concentration, her ears caught a soft sound; a chatter. She glanced over at the Fae in the passenger seat next to her, who was mostly obscured by the woolen blanket that he had nicked from the gear in the back. She watched as he tried to repress a shiver, but succeeded only in making it deeper.

The icy drafts making their way in through the canvas had all but frozen him. With a sigh, she conceded defeat for the night, and pulled off on the first exit that she came upon.

"Where are you going?" he demanded as they skidded slightly down the ramp.

"We're stopping for the night. Trying to drive any further in this mess is ludicrous, and I don't need a Goblin King Popsicle attached to my front seat. I rather suspect that you'd be difficult to get out of the upholstery."

"Do you know where we are, at least?" Jareth asked, trying valiantly to keep his teeth from chattering as he spoke.

"The last sign said Franklin."

"Where the hell is that?"

"About a mile ahead, apparently. We haven't quite hit Indianapolis yet."

Jareth muttered something that Sarah didn't quite catch as he slumped back, pulling the blanket up to just under his eyes. She chuckled at the image; he looked like a pouting toddler.

Despite earlier luck, or lack thereof, they came across a hotel a mile or so down the road. Mentally thanking whatever had granted her such luck, she pulled in and ran into the office, leaving the CJ rumbling its idling complaints just outside the door, and Jareth and the boys looking on curiously.

When she hopped back into the cab, she was wearing a layer of snow and a slight smile.

"We're in luck, at least partially. We've got one of the last cabins available," she said, a set of keys dangling from her extended fingers as she popped the CJ into first. The cabin was along the edge of what may have been farmland at one point before a heavy growth of trees took it back over.

It looked to have been built around the time of the merge; hand-hewn clay bricks and roughly-cut logs made up the exterior. Windows had been cut into the cabin at some latter point when the Merge War had ended, and everything had settled into some pattern of normalcy.

She parked the Jeep behind the cabin where it wouldn't be visible from the street that led to it. Sarah was first to brave the icy winds as she hopped out and ran to unlock the cabin's door.

The key slid into the deadbolt with a minimal amount of finagling, and the door opened into a homey-feeling cabin. A pang of longing struck her briefly; the last time she had been in a cabin, it had been her grandparents. A soft smile touched Sarah's face as she recalled holidays spent with family.

Shaking off the nostalgia, she stepped inside, taking a glance around. The cabin was a single room with a wide pair of bunk beds stacked in the corner. The hearth glowed with embers, taking the chill off, and there was a ceramic claw-footed tub sectioned off from the rest of the room by a linen curtain. The water appeared to be heated in a basin above the hearth, and the rest of the room was warmed by boiler pipes running along the baseboards. The decor was done in true woodland style in in greens and tans, and an earthy-plaid cloth couches.

Sarah lit the lamp on the corner desk, casting a soft firey glow about the room. She nodded back at Dean and Peter, who helped the Goblin King out of the CJ, much to his irritation, and fielded complaints that he wasn't an invalid with silently amused stoicism.

Once Jareth was insinuated in the armchair, pushed as close banked brazier as they dared, and covered with blankets to warm him, Sarah hit the fire with a poker to coax it back into blazing life. Peter left briefly to haul split logs into the wood cabinet and offered it one piece at a time to Sarah as she fed the fire.

"Could you have chosen a smaller cabin?" Jareth asked, casting a critical eye around the small room.

Sarah leveled a glare at him. "You're welcome to add on with blocks of snow," she said, clearly unamused. "The only other open cabin they had, which was smaller, by the way, was the one made of red ore brick." Jareth's eyes widened. "I figured you'd be more comfortable not being surrounded by iron-laced bricks, especially since you're still recovering from iron poisoning."

The Goblin King had the good grace, at least, to appear sheepish even if he didn't apologize. The conversation was halted by a tinny noise characteristic of a small speaker coming from Sarah's pocket. Sarah chuckled as she realized that Toby had programmed the phone to ring with the X-Files theme. She doubted that anyone else would get it.

"Brother," she greeted, the smile in her voice audible.

"Sister," he replied. He did not sound as amused as she. Her face fell. Immediately, the boys were staring at her. Even the Goblin King noticed that something was amiss.

"What is it?"

"Medusa is dead," came Toby's voice from the other end.

"How?" Sarah felt a pang of loss, gritting her teeth.

"Something tore her apart. Whatever it was left a residue like magical sludge. Frog was lamed. We're taking care of him. He dragged Medusa all the way to the base. We have everything on lock down, and our surveillance is active. Are you safe?"

"We're safe for the night. It's snowing badly, so we're not there yet. Whoever is following us were on bikes, but we were able to get ahead because we had the CJ. They're more than a fifty miles behind us, but they know where we're going. They have to. I'm going to see if I can disable them once I get the king settled in for the night."

"Have a care, Sister."

"You too, Brother." Sarah closed the phone, turning toward Dean, her eyes betraying her sadness. "Dean," she said softly, commiserating. He nodded, his eyes closing against his tears. Medusa had been with him for a long, long time, and he always harbored a soft spot for the dappled gray mare.

"I heard. I'm going to go for a run. Stretch my legs." He dropped down as his body expanded, shucking the clothing off of him as Sarah held the door open for him. They heard his howl as he ran off to grieve. Jareth shivered.

"You two get settled in and warm up," Sarah said as her flesh seemed to shudder, the crystalline sand taking over. Her features, though softened, were still recognizable as she went for the cabin door.

"Yes, Lady." Jareth suddenly found himself surrounded by warm fur as Peter leaned against him as the wolf.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, a cold tone affecting his voice as he suppressed quaking. He stared at her as if she had lost her mind along with her corporeal form. "You can't go out in that madness, you'll freeze to death."

"I will not freeze," she answered with a glance. "I need to make sure that whoever is following us cannot get to us."

"Why didn't you think to tell us that we were being followed in the first place? And for that matter, who would be able to find us in this mess?" he asked irritably.

"It wouldn't have changed anything if I had said something. We still would have pushed as far through as we could have," she replied easily, ignoring the attitude.

"What if you are seen?"

"It won't matter. If it's Harlan Sisk like I think it is, he already knows what I am, where I'm going, and who I am likely to have with me."

"What if it's not?"

"Look," she said, her voice as soft as the falling flakes outside. "I'm going. I need to make sure that they can't get any closer to us. I'll be back." Her voice left Jareth with gooseflesh in it's wake. He was not reassured.

"Lilith, don't," he asked. He had to try. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, unsettling him.

"I have to," she said, her features going soft as the sands lost their humanoid shape, and she melted backward toward the doorway, pulling the solid wood door open and closed with a solid snick behind her before he could get another word in edgewise. Her phone had been left on the corner desk by the lamp. Jareth hadn't seen her put it there.

Jareth grimaced as he watched her go, realizing he could do absolutely nothing to stop her without taxing his power. "She is always so eager to leave," he commented bitterly. "She hadn't even warmed herself."

"When she is sand, neither hot, nor cold, nor wet, nor dry bother her. She says it feels like resetting herself," Peter supplied helpfully, nestling in across the king's lap. It was strange to hear Peter's voice coming from the white wolf stretched out across him.

"What do you mean?"

"Once she is sand, then reforms, she likens it to being reborn. Anything that once was wrong is fixed, and she is whole again. It's why she can't destroy herself. She'll just revert to sand, and her body will be perfect again."

"Why was she so eager to leave, though?" he asked, wondering if he was becoming a burden, or had offended her in some way that he hadn't noticed.

"The glamour you see wears on her mind. I've never seen her use it for this long continuously."

"Her eyes this morning, then...?" he trailed off, leaving his question mostly unasked.

"What about them?" Peter asked.

"I could have sworn that they looked different for a moment,"

"She probably wasn't concentrating properly."

"So she's still hiding something."

"Always," Peter said sadly. The Goblin King's hands came to rest at his scruff, his long fingers threading through his fur.

"She is so familiar. It's like who she is has caught on the tip of my mind, but I just can't place it."

"It is," he replied simply.

"Why won't she tell me her name?" he asked, curious to know if the boys would be able to reveal anything else about her, even though he knew better.

"Don't take it personally, King. Lilith may as well be her name now. She gave up all other ties to her old life when it ended. She was destroyed after the merge. But it's not her name you should be asking," the white wolf said, his eyes glinting red in the firelight. "You know who she is. Better than you should. Better than she wants you to. Let that at least be of some comfort," he offered, settling in to wait for his Lady's return. Jareth cast his mismatched eyes toward the hearth, his mind mulling thoughts and worries about in an endless circle.

* * *

Sarah dispersed her grains in the sky, dodging snowflakes and spread herself skyward. She spiralled up through snow and storm until finally she reached beyond the fluffly flakes and through the spires of clouds they fell from. The remains of the past sunset sparkled over the sea of clouds below her, and, not for the first time, she fought to quash the urge to chase down the sun and just abandon everything. She sighed as she backtracked for a while, then flowed vaguely downward, feeling a pang of guilt at even having the thought.

The feel of charged air around her gave her pause. If she'd been corporeal, the hair on her neck would have been standing on end.

The bolt of power that screamed past her had come from below, and missed her sands, but only narrowly. The growl built around her, rumbling outward in threat. Sisk knew she was there, and he'd ruined his element of surprise.

She shot lower, almost too quickly for the men below to see. Her black sands stood out in sharp relief against the fluffly white snowfall. She came to rest in the treetops without disrupting the layer of snow that covered the branches. Another bolt came at her, this one narrowly missing the tail of sand that trailed her. It passed by harmlessly as if she weren't there, but Sarah felt the destructive intent behind it.

"Come play, beast!" she heard a man's voice call from below her and to the left. Despite being muffled by the falling snow around him, she recognized Harlan Sisk's craggy voice. She doubted that she would ever forget it. She did not answer him.

"We know you're headed for higher ground," he said, then she heard a grunt. A knife pinioned her through the middle. Iron shavings clung to it like the one that that had poisoned Jareth. She curled around herself, her sands in an unceasing roil, letting the knife dissolve under the pressures of them. The son-of-a-bitch was trying to test her for weaknesses, she realized. She expanded her field of concern when another man approached from behind Sisk.

She felt the air thicken once more, and smelled ozone. Another blast was coming.

The tree under her exploded into splinters. Still, she hovered, not giving anything away. Sarah was stunned at the level of power that had just come from such a small man, despite not being harmed by it.

"Fuck," she heard from below. Yet another man. "Even the Endgame can't touch it!" The man from whom the blast originated dropped to his knees, holding his hands to his face as blood streamed from his nose and ears.

"You shouldn't be against us, witch!" he called, his voice broken and craggy. "His kind destroyed our world! "Stop protecting him," he snapped, taking a step toward her. "The same thing that created you created me and mine. That son-of-a-bitch took my boys from me, and the world we knew from the rest of us. I will see him dead!"

"And just how do you think you know what created me?" she hissed, her breath a whisper.

"You used to be human. The Labyrinth changed you." Sarah's sands stopped their previously unceasing roil.

"Is that your explanation for yourself?"

He smiled, revealing strangely perfect teeth. "I don't need an explanation for myself. You and your boys would be best served if you stayed out of my line of fire. You've put yourself there once already. Even if we can't touch you, beast, your family, your friends, your home, and your normal life... Those can be broken and destroyed at the drop of a hat." He paused, likely for effect, casting a glance at her sideways. "How's your horse?" he asked snidely, shifting on his feet. Direct hit.

Sarah swept down in the form of her beast; huge, and soul-suckingly black. Sand dripped off of fangs the size of knives as she snarled, breath as hot as hell singing his face and making his hair curl and sizzle. The ground beneath Sisk shook with the fury of her, and he was deafened by the thunder. His face reflected a fiery glow as the first hint of fear began to shimmer in his gaze.

"The last thing you want to break, Runner," she spoke, her voice grating along his nerves like a knife on a whetstone, raising his hair, and affecting a shudder all through him, "is my temper. Do not pursue this."

"Dev!" he called, and she heard the fear. Sarah felt her sands explode in a whorl from a hit that came from behind her, and to her surprise, they started to dissolve. Her thunderous cry echoed murderously beyond the deafening of the snowfall for miles and miles.


	26. Chapter 25 All Apologies

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally posted 21 June 2010.

* * *

Peter was pacing by the time midnight rolled around. Dean had returned shortly after ten, and none of the the three had slept since the beast's roll of thunder had reached them. It was loud enough to have woken Peter from a dead sleep. The walls had practically quivered with the sound.

The only reason he hadn't rushed out the door immediately upon realizing what the noise was had been because of the phone that Sarah had left on the desk. As he opened the door, ready to bolt out of it, the X-Files theme began to play.

Peter went white as he answered the phone.

"Yes, Lady," was all that he had said before hanging up.

Jareth was practically frothing as he was thwarted at every attempt he made to leave the cabin. Dean had gotten sick of it, and for the last forty minutes, he had been sitting on the Goblin King's lower back, pinning him to the floor.

"We need to find her!" he implored once again. Peter was thinking the same thing as he glanced down at the pinioned Goblin King.

"She said to stay put," he reminded the king again.

"And you're going to listen?"

"Absolutely," he replied, his irritation at the situation showing on his face as he began to take on wolfish features, his face elongating.

"What if she's in trouble?" he insisted.

"We already know that she's in trouble. That's why we're waiting here, ready to bolt the very moment she returns if that's what we need to do."

"But why not go after her?"

"Because she told us not to," Peter growled. "If she's not back by morning, we are to take you back to your kingdom."

"That's insane! You would leave her to her death?"

"If she asked us to, yes," Dean replied from above him, keeping his voice calm. He knew it wouldn't do anyone any good if he were to let himself get agitated as well.

"I don't understand! You would let her die if she asked you to?" Jareth asked, absolutely floored - no pun intended.

Peter cast his eyes to meet his brother's. "You just answered that, did you not?" he asked rhetorically. Dean merely shrugged. Jareth narrowed his eyes, biting back a snarl of his own as he prepared to release a stream of vitriol aimed at the mouthy wolf in front of him.

Then, the door was flung wide, and he forgot every single word he was prepared to unleash.

"Lady!" Peter said, turning to the doorway as the sand flowed in and the door snapped closed.

The sand took on a humanoid shape, her features filling in. As she began to pull herself back into flesh, she realized that something wasn't right.

Before any of them could breathe a sigh of relief at her presence, a wrenching pain doubled her over and she clutched her stomach, frozen in place in the doorway. Her face as she looked up was only partially flesh, the black sands shifting to cover it like a mask that was melting away. The glamor of Lilith formed, then fell to sand, then formed again, and finally dropped away, leaving Sarah's face bare.

She looked up at the Goblin King, still pinned to the floor by Dean, who stared on in fear for his Lady. Jareth's eyes, wide open and mismatched, glinting in the firelight, locked with her own like Caribbean seas.

Sea blue eyes rolled back in her head as she pitched forward, and tried to catch herself. Blood bubbled up and poured in a river out of her mouth as she felt the crescent scar from the wound that killed her split open like a blade had pierced it. When she tried to breathe, the blood frothed up through the wound.

Her hand went up to touch her face, her lips, and came away bloody. Sarah's legs went out from under her, confused as she was at the sudden pains.

Dean was off of the Goblin King's back and at her side before she could hit the wooden floor, clutching her arm and lowering her gently. The blood that dripped off of her turned black and grainy as the sands the beast comprised itself of when it left contact with her, splashing and shattering on the floor like so much glass. Her eyes locked with the Goblin King's a final time before her heart stopped beating in her chest. Her eyelids slipped closed as she slumped and fell over, crumpling and dying.

"Sarah," the Goblin King whispered in horror. 


	27. Chapter 26 Black Holes and Revelations

All standard disclaimers apply. ***Warning: May be further edited for detail...***

Originally posted 26 June 2010.

* * *

Sarah came back to consciousness in stages after her body melted to sand. This revival had happened to her this way more times than she cared to count. Dying never got any easier, she thought, but she was relieved, at least, to be coming back again. Sarah hadn't been sure that she would revive this time; not after whatever power had hit her.

The blast that had hit her was a shock to be sure. She'd felt it start to dissolve her sands; she hadn't thought that it was possible to do anything remotely like that. Her sand, she always figured, was pretty much particulate magic. And magic, like matter, wasn't supposed to be able to be destroyed. That was the theory, anyway.

The man who had sent the blast at her was the first to die that night. Before he could recover from the thunderous scream she had issued, she was on him, his throat in her jaws.

The man that Sisk had called the Endgame was next as another blast from him hit her full-on, scattering her sands, but not damaging her further.

There were at least six more that died in the moments following, but she hadn't been sure that Harlan Sisk was a part of that six. Her memory was still sketchy, but she remembered drawing the age out of the bikes that they had used to follow until they were naught but piles of rust and crumbling rubber. They fell away at the touch of her sands, having aged centuries in mere moments.

The entire attack had taken only minutes, and part of her realized that the boys, at least, would have heard her call. Sarah shot straight up, leaving the makeshift campsite in ruins and sped toward the only light she could see. She managed to find a phone at a closed gas station somewhere along the interstate, and relay a message to stay put, and if she wasn't back by daybreak to get Jareth home.

The campsite stunk of blood and magic; it was the only way she was able to find it again.

If she had been flesh at the moment she returned, her stomach would have loosed itself. The men she killed looked to have been eviscerated. She didn't have to look very closely to see that the bite marks they sported were human. Everything was dead here.

She left, shoving her disgust away. Sarah flew high in the now-pitch sky, using the clouds for cover. She made sure to fly in wide arcs to disguise her path, just in case Harlan Sisk had yet another method of tracking her that she didn't know about.

The cabin had a soft glow about it as she made her final approach, pushing the door open just enough to slither in, and closing it before the heat from the hearth could escape.

What happened next, she couldn't explain, even as the events came back to her. It felt as if, when she returned to flesh, there wasn't enough sand to complete her body. It was like she had gaping holes in her, like there wasn't enough magic to hold her together. And just like that, she had fallen apart. Her glamor had died along with her body, and fell to the wayside, swept away in tide of life as she bled out.

So she remained a pile of black sand on the hardwood floor, immobile, silent, listening, and the largest part of her, terrified, because the Goblin King had been witness

Dean was leaning against the couch, staring intently at her sands, his eyes wolfish and steady. He watched for any sign that she had come to.

Peter was not currently within sight; probably outside, she thought. And the Goblin King...

Jareth was sitting at the far end of the cabin, pointedly not looking at her. His gaze was far away, his brow furrowed. His thoughts appeared to be taking him miles away, affecting a shell-shocked look.

Peter walked back in after a time of silence, snapping the phone closed as he shut the door behind him.

"Has she woken yet?" he asked.

"Not that I've noticed. It's never taken her this long before," Dean said quietly, not taking his eyes off of the black grains. He could have counted them.

"She has also never came back with injuries," Peter replied quietly. "She always said that when she went grainy, her body seemed to reset itself to it's previous perfect condition."

"What about the king?" Dean asked, risking a glance at his brother.

"What about him?" Peter asked, almost snidely. "She told us that, come daybreak, we're to get him back to his kingdom. We're obviously not going to be safe here for long, assuming we're safe now."

"Should we take her?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "We'll need a dust pan." Sarah almost gave herself away with a laugh, but stayed silent and still. Sarah was not looking forward to this. She'd resigned herself to telling Jareth the truth already, but this wasn't the way she had wanted it to happen.

Dawn was breaking, and she could feel the press of sunlight starting to crest the horizon. Time to face the music.

She felt Jareth's eyes on her as she pulled her sands together, rising up. The boys' sighs of relief cut off their half-hearted argument as she looked down at them, still unwilling to take on a form of flesh, uncertain as to whether she could hold onto it. Dying wasn't particularly pleasant, and she preferred to avoid it if at all possible.

Dean launched himself at her, catching her around the middle, burying his face in the sand at her shoulder, reveling at the feeling of her. Peter was close behind, wrapping his arms around both of them. Sarah pulled them close, curling around her boys.

"I'm sorry I scared you," she said softly, her voice flowing over them like water over burns, soothing.

"We will always wait for you, Lady," Peter assured. They let her go after a moment, and the endless pits of her black eyes found the steely gaze from the those of the Goblin King.

"Boys," she started as Jareth rose. "Would you get the Jeep started and wait for us outside, please?" Twin red stares went immediately to the Goblin King, warning him against doing anything rash. He met the stares coldly. The boys left without a word to him, closing the door behind them as she watched.

The silence between them was deafening.

"What game are you playing, beast?" he growled, an icy thread of rage wound through his voice.

"There is no game, Goblin King," she replied quietly, not turning to face him.

"How is it, then," he asked, pacing in a dangerous arc around her. She was still facing the door and hadn't moved. "That you were able to duplicate a death scene that took place more than two centuries ago?"

"How do you think?" she asked tonelessly, knowing that there was no way out of this conversation that would be to her benefit. He would be like a pit bull with another dog's throat in its teeth; this would not die quietly or easily.

"Answer me!" he roared, his hair flaring out, whipping in an unfelt wind, and his eyes blazing. She felt his power pressing into her, despite being essentially stolen from her. "Why did you look like Sarah?"

"I'm the one that died that night, Goblin King. I am that Sarah," she said in a whisper, begging him to believe her. Jareth was suddenly upon her, pressing her into the door, his long fingers wrapped about her shoulders, his face scarcely inches from hers. Sarah felt Jareth trembling. "The scar on my chest is from a steel beam that ran me through. I've never been able to get rid of it." Surely, it was visible, even in her sands; a raised crescent, mimicking Jareth's pendant, now that she noticed.

"You are not my Sarah, beast. I watched her die, unable to stop it, unable to save her, and I should have followed her into that dark night. I can't believe that I was blind to you for as long as I was by your lies. You will tell me the truth," he demanded, "or I will spend the rest of my days dogging you. I will give you not a moment's rest. I will rip away your world like mine has been torn from me for daring taunt me in such a manner," he promised, fire in his eyes.

She met his gaze unflinchingly, able at least to be strong in this. "You would threaten my brother and my boys?" she asked calmly, feeling a stream of anger tearing at her. His eyes were hard, his jaw set, and his lips in a snarl. He would not hesitate to destroy everything she held dear.

She nodded at this fact, then let him melt through her, his hands hitting the door before he tried to spin back around to face her. His skin flared in that same golden light, outshining the rising sun. Jareth gasped at the feel of her as she pressed him against the door, his face pressed against the door as Sarah held him there.

"You issued the same threat as Harlan Sisk did last night when I found him. He said if he could not get to me, he would go after my family," she told him tonelessly. Jareth tried to push himself away from where he was pinned against the door, but Sarah only held him tighter.

"I had no idea you thought me dead, Goblin King. I thought that you were the one who set the worlds to merge for the longest time. Then I stopped running. I built a life. I made friends. I settled, and let myself believe that I could do it. I believed I could live out my life in peace. But then you sauntered straight on into my life, unaware that you were what I was running from for so long. You revealed my secret so casually, and thought nothing of it. And now, you threaten my family," she said, shoving him harder against the wooden door. Her face was twisted in a black snarl of emotion, her teeth bared, scraping against his ear with each word. One more vicious shove, and she backed away from him.

He turned on her slowly, and she saw murder in his eyes. "Who are you?" he yelled finally, power crackling in the air around him.

She did not answer him for long moments. There was no other way he'd believe her.

"There's such a sad love," she whispered finally. "Deep in your eyes; a kind of pale jewel, opened and closed within your eyes."

His face fell into an expression of shock. Jareth could have been felled by a feather as his voice, trembling from a sudden rush of adrenaline as it was, asked, "What did you say?"

"I'll place the sky within your eyes," she continued, dropping her gaze to the floor.

"No," he breathed, feeling his blood freeze in his veins. Tears welled in wild, wide eyes as he watched her. "It can't be... My song..." Sarah was the only one person who had ever heard his Fae Song; the lady to whom his heart belonged.

Jareth's Fae Song had been the gift of his life, his power, and his love. He had bestowed upon a girl of only fifteen years the gift of his very heart and soul, and she had died holding both, or so he had thought. But here was this creature, this beast of black sand and moonlight, whispering the words of his soul back to him like raindrops on a cracked and weathered riverbed. He stopped being able to know what to think, as he felt like he was finally able to take a breath of sweet, sweet air after long years underwater. His chest positively ached as he took a shuddering breath.

This being that stood so boldly in front of him was the Complement to his Animus, and the love that he glowed for. She'd taken him by storm, he realized. This creature, this Lilith, mother to three lost wolves, absolute master of her own domain, had captured him as well. She held herself apart from even the friends she made over the years, choosing instead to live her life for her family.

Jareth could not deny the peace he felt within himself when she had enfolded him in her sands, calming his roiling soul as she saved his life. He had felt, at the beginning, that he was betraying the memory of Sarah by allowing himself to feel anything for the strange beast that held such interest for him. At the celebration, when they had danced, everything else had just... fallen away. The more he allowed himself to think about it, the more sense it made, and he was angry at himself for not understanding sooner.

His attention snapped back to her as she started to speak again, so softly that he almost missed it.

"I'm sorry you mourned me for two centuries. I'm sorry that this is how you had to find out that I'm not gone. I don't know what kind of pedestal you built for me in your memories, but this is it. This is me. I'm sorry if this," she gestured down at herself, her sands, "is a disappointment to you. I'm sorry I'm not human anymore. I'm sorry I can't be the Sarah that you remember so fondly and loved so dearly, but know this, at least: I did not intend to leave you in the lurch when I returned you home. I planned on telling you the truth before I left, once you were safe in your kingdom again."

Tears were finally streaming down the Goblin King's eyes. His Sarah was alive. His Sarah was ALIVE.

"Have you ever been so lonely," he asked, trying to still the tremor in his words, "that all you thought you could bring yourself to do is scream at the sky?"

Sarah swore she could feel her heart start to shatter into pieces as she took a completely unnecessary breath to steady herself.

"That is what my waking life has been each and every single day since I was forced to watch as you were torn from me. My nights have either been sleepless or plagued with nightmares."

"No more," she asked. "Please. I'll never be able to make up for deceiving you. The only thing I can do right now is to return your song." Jareth's breath caught in his throat as her words hit home. Before he could shake his head to stop her, the power froze him as the wish she spoke invoked the latent Labyrinthine magic that comprised her sands.

"Jareth, King of the Goblins, as the receiver of your Fae Song, I wish to return it to you. I'm sorry I kept it from you so long without realizing what I held, and what pain it caused you," she whispered. "If you bestow it again, make sure that you give it to someone who will cherish it as I did not." She couldn't yet bring herself to articulate all that she was experiencing as she felt the magic return an indefinable bit of something from her. Sarah felt as if her throat was tight from crying, and her lungs had been steeped in acid. She hadn't realized what the gift of his song meant all those years ago.

Sarah looked up when she heard a noise only to see him having already stormed across the scant distance that separated them. The last thing she saw was his eyes scorching her mind. His kiss was as unexpected as a lightning strike; she rather thought he would blast her away, as weak as she felt.

Jareth kissed her like a man drowning, completely uncaring that she had no true physical form as he drank her in covetously. She was his oxygen, his saving grace as his hands pushed through the sand where her shoulders would have been. He tore his lips away, gasping in a breath as he pulled himself away, his skin flaring up in gold from all the places she had come into contact with him. Sarah could still feel his heartbeat thrumming through her as if it were her own. "It's horribly rude to return gifts," he said finally.


	28. Chapter 27 Command

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted 23 September 2010.

* * *

Sarah was struck frozen as the Goblin King eased back gently, his lips brushing against hers once more before withdrawing completely. His hot breaths were whispered over her face as he gasped from the latent sensation of her sands against his flesh. She would have been nearly blinded by the radiant light he was putting off if she had been able to come to him in flesh. God, but he was beautiful, his face flushed and glowing with light, and his heterochrome eyes seeming to burn straight through her.

His skin dimmed after a moment more, the remaining shimmer a ghost of the glow clinging to his fingertips where his hands had plunged through her at the shoulder. He hadn't stopped staring at her. Sarah could practically hear his thoughts colliding with one another as he considered where to go with her from here.

A moment of soul-rending panic later, Sarah wrenched the cabin door through it she was through it, taking to the air.

"Sarah!" he called, darting out after her retreating form. "Sarah, stop!"

She had gotten as far as the Jeep before there was a noise like a spring snapping under pressure, and her sands halted all movement, curling around themselves in agitation. She felt the chain snap down around her as if it were physically there.

"Please," she managed, her voice a whimper.

Jareth realized immediately what he had done. She didn't have his song anymore. He knew her name. As a creature of the Labyrinth, he held her reins. She owed him her fealty and her obedience, and he could command it with a single word. Were she any other creature to call, he wouldn't have blinked, but this was Sarah, and now, she was bound by him.

"Please," she said again, begging. His heart broke anew at the sound, but he knew that she would never accede to his wishes if he just released her. He needed time.

"Will you accompany me to my home?" he asked quickly, careful not to pose his words as any kind of order now that he was aware of his influence.

"I will," she answered, the sands twisting and hissing. Still, she did not move from her hovering position just barely a foot off the ground. Sarah's form still mimicked a human, and long moment passed before Peter snapped.

"Release her!" he snarled, his face broadening and lengthening, the wolf showing through. It was a fright to behold, even when Dean came toward him with a calming hand.

Jareth cast a glance at the frothing wolf, then back to Sarah. "I release my command," he said, but still she did not move. A strangled sob came from her.

"Say her name," Dean said softly.

"Sarah," he breathed, a grimace on his stark features, his attention fully on the writhing beast of sand suspended near the boys.

Sarah sands crumpled to the snow-covered ground with a noise like breaking bones. Dean and Peter were at her side instantly as she pulled herself together and back into a semi-humanoid shape.

He kept his distance as he watched Dean offer her his hand.

Peter looked at him with a glare far surpassing his youthful face. "She was right to fear you, Goblin King, if this is how you treat her."

"It's fine, Peter," Sarah assured, her voice like broken glass over concrete. "He didn't command me on purpose."

Jareth felt the wariness about her, then, and hated himself a little for having put it there. After a tense moment, Sarah righted herself and without another word, slid into the Jeep. The boys were quick to follow.

Jareth found himself sitting in the front seat of the Jeep again as it cut a tenuous path on the interstate, looking for all the world like someone spit in his Cheerios as they resumed their drive. The snow had ceased, leaving the morning bright and clear, the sun reflecting off the blanket of fresh snow carpeting what seemed to be the entire world.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked finally. When, after a moment, she still hadn't answered, he sighed. "Are you going to ignore me the entire way?"

Sarah still did not answer him, keeping only the road in her sight line.

"I still have questions for you," he insisted, his already-limited patience wearing thin.

"All of which can wait for hell to freeze." Sarah had already worked up a quiet, solid rage of her own.

"It seems that it already has," he said snidely, indicating the snow drifts outside the window.

"You would've tried to keep me," she said. That, he could not dispute. "Even now, you're probably trying to think of something that will make me stay with you. I'm going to accompany you home to toe Goblin Kingdom, and then I'm leaving. I'll go back to my life and see what there is to salvage. You can return to your life and rule the Goblin Kingdom forever and take whatever wife suits your fancy. I won't cross your path. You won't cross mine. All will be well and right with this fucked up merged world," she said venomously.

"I hardly find that acceptable," he returned with a scowl.

"I hardly care," she bit back.

Dean and Frankie shot each other a look that said 'Mom and Dad are fighting again...'

"Sarah, I just found you again! I cannot - will not - let you go."

"Those very words which you just spoke to me," she announced, "are precisely why I felt that I had to run for so long."

"You didn't have to," Jareth told her, pain shimmering in his mismatched eyes. "I would have given you the world, Sarah, if I had but known..."

"For all I knew, you were the one that caused the worlds to come together, and everything that followed. All I had left in this world was my brother, and you'd taken him before-"

Jareth immediately opened his mouth to protest, but Sarah cut him off before he was able, knowing where he was going to go.

"-at my own request," she acceded pointedly, "even though I had no idea the power my words held. How was I to know that you didn't have some other method of trapping us?"

"Sarah-"

"Stop calling me that. I haven't been Sarah in a long time."

"You'll always be my Sarah," he insisted softly. The pain she heard in his voice stilled her sharp tongue, and Sarah found that she didn't have the heart to break his heart further in that respect.

"I'm Lilith," she insisted.

"Why did you choose that name?" he asked, realizing that the conversation about her name wouldn't endear him to her.

"No reason," she said flippantly. He looked hard at her.

"Sarah," he stated again, "Why?"

"I said no reason. Leave it, please."

"Why?" he pressed.

"Because it hurts me to say."

"You took a name that makes you think about something that hurts you," he said, trying to clarify his confusion.

"I'm apparently a masochist," she said grimly.

"Why would you name yourself with a hurtful memory? Please?" She cast him a black glance as she finally relented.

"I wanted a daughter some day, Goblin King. I wanted to name her Lilith after my grandmother." Jareth was silent for a time, trying to process. He looked back up at her as the implication sank in.

"You're barren," he realized.

"Yeah," she said bitterly. "Thanks for clearing that up."

"How do you know?"

Sarah levelled a glare at him that could have frozen fire. "I've known since long before the merge. A rare form of cancer took the ability from me before I got into college. I can only assume that dying didn't help matters. Aside from that, Sam has tried to start a family. That's the reason that his wife left him. They tried for years."

"I'm sorry," he said, even though it felt woefully inadequate.

"It's fine," she said with a slight smile. "I have a family."

"Have you tried to have children?" he asked, though the thought stirred a deep jealousy within him.

"Not actively," she replied. "I've had lovers, if that's what you're asking."

Jareth tried very hard to keep the murderous rage that slammed into him off of his face. "Really," he managed tightly. "Anyone I know?"

"Jealousy doesn't become you, Goblin King," she said, tossing a glance at him. "And yes, actually." She didn't elaborate.

"This is not jealousy," he lied. "It's anger."

"There's no reason for you to be angry at me for anything I've done in that respect. If I tell you, you're not allowed to even mention it to them, let alone try and get any sort of retribution."

"Them?" he roared, knocking the quilted blanket off of his shoulders.

"Yes." She would've rolled her eyes had she been flesh. "Promise first."

It took him a moment, but he nodded. "Very well. I will not harm your past lovers if you provide me with their names."

"All right, then. Jethro and Jackson Di'shik'de."

"The elves?" he screeched, reminiscent of his avian form.

"Keep it down," Peter said. "Some of us still have eardrums."

"Yes, the elves," she said with a smile as Jareth shot Peter a look that spoke volumes.

"Anyone else I should know about?"

"Nope," she said pointedly, popping the 'p.'

"You mean-" he cut off, flabbergasted as the implication sank in fully.

"Yep," she confirmed, already knowing the question.

"Which was it?" he hissed. "I'm going to kill them." His face was a mask of anger, and she didn't doubt that he would try to get around the word he had given.

"Ah, you promised. And I'm not sure which one of them it was, to be quite honest."

"What do you mean, you're not sure?"

"Exactly that. They never told me, I couldn't tell them apart at that time, and I never asked."

"You had both of them."

"Yes, I did."

"At the same time."

"Not precisely, but close enough."

"And they took your virginity."

"Took is the wrong word. At a hundred and eighty-some odd years, some of which were very odd, I rather figured I wasn't getting any younger."

"Why wait so long if you were just going to throw it away?"

"Oi! I didn't throw anything away!" she defended angrily. "I'd rather it be a favor among friends who wouldn't judge than with some nameless somebody who wouldn't have cared a whit either way."

"But why?"

"I was tired of being alone, Jareth," she admitted. It didn't escape his notice that she finally said his name. He felt a warm glow raising within himself, and was glad for the cover of the blanket. "Really, was allowing myself one night of comfort such a bad thing?"

Jareth pursed his lips, twisting them into a grimace as he considered.

"Fine, then, Mr. High-and-Mighty: how many willing women did you drown your sorrows in?" Jareth blanched. "As I thought."

"None of them meant anything, and they knew it," he defended. "They were only hoping for a taste of Fae Nobility."

"Well, they got what their wish, didn't they?" she asked bitterly, angry that he would hold her to such a double standard.

"Did the twins know that you were using them?" he asked, hoping to drive home one final barb.

"Yes." Her frankness surprised him. "They used me as much as I used them. They know that their complement won't be born for decades yet."

"How would they know?"

"The Di'shik'de are prophetic. It's part of their gimmick."

"Apart from collecting virginity-"

"Oi!" she called. "That'll be enough from the peanut gallery."

"You can't expect me to be happy about those..."

"Elves," she suggested pointedly.

"Arms dealers," he growled back, making obvious his opinion of said elves, "taking what should have been mine."

"Unbelievable," she sighed. "You are absolutely unbelievable. I never should have told you."

"Yes, you absolutely should have," he insisted. "If I'd have found out from anyone else, I would likely have them strung up by their delicate parts by now."

"That's exactly what I mean," she said, like trying to explain a concept to a child. "I will not let you control me, Goblin King. You have more than your fair share of power over me now, like you wanted for so long, but do not mistake me. If you ever command me, I will find a way to vanish. Do not ever underestimate my will."

Jareth stared at her for a time, his expression unfathomable. Sarah held herself still, refusing to squirm under his scrutiny.

"I know that your will is as strong, and your kingdom as great," he said at last, repeating words given him so long ago, "and I would do well never to forget or underestimate that fact again. But whatever power I have to command you, Sarah, the power you hold over me is still far greater."

She didn't reply, but kept on driving with a nod of acknowledgement.

"If I were to offer the debts that I owed you-"

"I would be forced to refuse you again."

"But why?"

"I don't want you under my power, Goblin King. I never did." She half-smiled, and he was enchanted by the play of sand across her half-formed face. "You're not a creature that should be harnessed or tamed. I'm not a creature that would ever want to be held prisoner by circumstance either. Don't take it personally," she offered, "but I don't want you under my thumb."

"What if there's no place that I would rather be?" he asked.

"You're kidding," she said, deadpan. "You, a Fae King, wants to be beholden to a ... whatever I am. A beast of black sand and moonlight."

"No. Whether or not you like it, Sarah," he said, invoking her name again. "I am beholden to the girl that bested my Labyrinth, survived, thrived in a world of two natures, is a mother to wolves, friend to insanity incarnate in the form of twin elves, and still, in whatever form she takes, holds my very soul within her being."

"Goblin King..." she said, stunned, unsure how to reply.

"I thought that I was losing my mind, Sarah," he said, staring her hard in the eyes, pleading silently with her to try to understand. "I found myself becoming completely enamored with some strange beast, the likes of which I've never seen before. Her kindness spoke to me even when she wouldn't give me words, and I found myself wanting to know more. I thought that I was betraying the memory of the one woman who I knew in my heart of hearts was my other half."

"You can't be in love with me, Goblin King. You thought I was dead for almost two centuries. I'm not the same naïve little girl," she insisted, starting to waver against his stoic insistence.

"I know that same person lurks very close to the surface in you. You are the woman that girl grew into. The girl who befriended surly dwarves, and rock-calling giants, and soldiers long past their prime grew into a woman that earned the trust, loyalty, and friendship of wolf-brothers and arms-dealing duplicitous elves and the people in the town that she protects without it even knowing. You are still the same person that gave up her deepest wishes and dreams for her baby brother when she didn't truly have to. Your choices reflect your soul, Sarah."

She just shook her head, not having a reply for him that was truthful. So she stayed quiet and just thought about the words he had given her in his honey-smooth voice, so sure of himself. So sure about her, even though she, herself, wasn't.

"Will you at least give this a chance?" he asked with a low sigh, recognizing that he would not make any headway by forcing her hand or her decisions. Give _me_ a chance is what he couldn't bring himself to ask, for fear of her answer destroying any hope whatsoever.

"After we get you back to the Goblin Kingdom," she said after a moment of deep thought. "After you're safe at home, I'll consider it."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied. "But I wouldn't expect too much out of this."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said with a sly smile that made it clear that he wasn't going to give this up easily. Jareth was doing more than dreaming; he was planning. Sarah would not be lost to him again.


	29. Chapter 28 We Have Arrived

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted: 08 January 2011

* * *

The wall surrounding the outer Labyrinth blended in and converged with the outlying homes and buildings as if it had been designed for that very purpose. Perhaps it had, Sarah thought as she led the Jeep through the ever-deepening snow which was doing its best to blind them with flurries that blew in from across Lake Michigan.

Jareth conjured a crystal without noticeable effort, and flattened it into the disc like she'd seen him do once before. He pecked at it with delicate touches for a moment, shifting things here and there, nodded at himself, then banished the disc off to whence it came. She would have raised an eyebrow if she'd had one.

"Checking the map?" she asked, amused. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

"Pull onto Lake Shore Drive when you can," he directed with a sigh. "Either this exit or the next one. We're almost there."

Sarah nodded her assent. "Why isn't there snow on the castle?" she asked of him when she finally saw its turrets rise out from against the skyline.

"There are wards on the grounds," he confirmed. "I'm not such a fool as to leave that which is mine unguarded in my absence. Aside that, the weather isn't always very conducive to plant life. It's part of the same border that allows the outer areas of the Labyrinth in the surrounding neighborhoods to be made public. Almost like a park."

"That's very... kind of you."

"Considering that the castle and surrounding gardens, including the Labyrinth proper displaced almost a third of the lake shore, and a good portion of the south side neighborhoods, not to mention a ball park, and relocated the museums to the Black Woods where the Fireys live, I felt it fitting. We were able to restore almost everything of cultural value and reintegrate it."

Jareth cut off as Sarah merged onto Lake Shore Drive, and he saw the Labyrinth's outer walls do something as of yet unseen. The walls and wards parted, opened like the gates to a private drive, gently relocating that which would hinder the last leg of their journey.

Sarah took the hint and pulled in, thinking nothing of the strange shifting walls. "I really can't believe I made it through in as little time as I did," she marveled softly, smiling as she drove. Jareth shot her an incredulous look. "That's a neat trick, by the way. Must come in handy for quick getaways."

"I wouldn't know," he said somewhat icily, not liking the fact that his Labyrinth was deferring to someone other than himself. "This is the first time it's happened."

"You're not doing this?" she asked, shocked and slightly alarmed. Jareth shook his head, a smirk suddenly blooming on his lips, thinning them dangerously.

"I think you're doing it, Sarah. You are her Champion, after all. I'm merely her King and Creator." His voice bordered on bitter.

"No joke, this isn't your doing?"

"Absolutely not."

"Well, hell," she said, sitting back.

"Lady," Peter said softly. "You're turning flesh again."

Sarah risked a glance down. Surely enough, her sands were solidifying, reemerging as flesh and cloth. "I feel strangely," she said, her voice carrying a queer cadence. "And I can hear... something. What's going on?" Sarah asked with only a slight tremor, trying not to panic.

"Just keep going. We should be within the Goblin City in a few minutes. The castle lies just beyond that, as always. You're doing fine," he tried. "Just breathe."

"I cannot breathe as sand," she said pointedly, pulling over and slowing the Jeep to a standstill. They were still over a mile away from the castle when Sarah yanked the parking break into place, and popped the door open.

"What are you doing?" Jareth asked irritably, watching her as she made to step out of the cab, dropping the scant distance to the dirt below.

He received no answer, because the moment her foot touched Labyrinthine soil, she was overwhelmed. Her consciousness seemed to expand even as her form crumpled into a pile of sand, which was absorbed by the landscape the moment they came into contact. She vaguely heard Jareth's cry and those of the boys before even that sound faded, and the magic welcomed her like a lover with open arms.

The Labyrinth had missed her, it seemed. They were incomplete, the magic told her. The voice that came to her was not a voice at all, but seemed painfully familiar. Together, we are whole, it said without needing words. Together, we are perfect again.

The magic took her back into itself, and then, Sarah was no longer merely herself. She was the Labyrinth, the heart of it, and the magic that sustained it all who dwelt within. The Labyrinth was her heartbeat, the thrum of the magic that comprised her being, and she was it's soul.

The warmth that filled her was all-encompassing, and the feeling of welcome engulfed her. She suddenly knew. She knew as if she had always known.

Sarah knew why the worlds had merged. How she and Toby had survived. She knew why it had been her.

Sarah had been chosen as the Complement to Jareth's Animus when she bested the Labyrinth and became the untitled Lady of the Labyrinth. The edges of the worlds, long ago torn apart and sealed, had begun to fray when Jareth had pressed her hand, and she hadn't understood. Her rejection and return was the straw that broke the camel's back. Her death was the catalyst that pulled the worlds together. The power gifted to her by the smitten Goblin King had tied her to the powers Underground, and had held her soul back after her Earthly body had perished, allowing her to be remade.

The sudden knowledge and influx of power left her corporeal and rejuvenated, stunned and shaking on her hands and knees in the dry, packed ground right beside the Jeep.

Sarah opened her eyes in a flare of light, throwing off the last of the grains of magic that remade her from the marrow on up. Sand that had once been black then reappeared as gold - the same gold that Jareth's skin lit with when he had touched her. Sarah felt like a newborn foal, confused at the brightness of the world, and eager to find her footing. The first thing her eyes saw was Jareth's terrified face as he hovered over her, his brow furrowed, and his eyes wide and frightened, while at the same time managing to hold a murderous expression as he draped her in something soft and warm. The snow was still blowing in slight eddies around her, but she felt no cold. How long had she been away?

Dean and Peter paced as wolves a length away, their eyes blazing unusually red as they watched. Their hackles had been raised, presenting as a line of fluffed fur all the way down their backs. Jareth must have commanded them, she realized.

"What was that?" he asked frantically, trying valiantly to ignore the fact that Sarah, looking like Sarah, was sitting in front of him, clad in only the ugly woolen blanket that he had been using throughout the trip. "Are you okay?" He was privately recalling the last time that she was made flesh, and the swift, bloody death that followed. That sight would haunt his nightmares for years to come, he knew.

"The Labyrinth. That was the Labyrinth," she said, leaning back against the Jeep as she caught an unnecessary breath.

"What was the Labyrinth? What has she done?"

"She made me this way. The Labyrinth saved my life when I died in that car. My body was destroyed. She used herself to recreate me."

"How in fiery hells-?" He cut himself off. "That's not possible."

"Yet here I am," she said sagely. "I can hear them, Jareth."

His heart leapt in his chest, just once. Jareth. Not 'Goblin King.' "Hear what?" he forced himself to ask, his throat having gone drier than the desert at high noon.

"Voices. I hear every creature in the maze, the forest, the Goblin City. It's music," she breathed, her Caribbean depths seemingly faraway and unfocused, so familiar when she wore no disguise. Her defenses were stripped barer than she was the day she was born.

Sarah turned to him. Blinked once. "I am the Labyrinth," she said as if she didn't believe it herself.

Back in the Jeep, the scrying disc that Jareth had banished previously had reappeared on the front seat, and was calling out shrilly. He snatched it up irritably, mashing an icon with his thumb.

"Your Majesty!" The goblin's relief was palpable.

"Prattle, for the love of Circe, I am five minutes away. What is it?"

"That's _your_ vehicle?"

"Not mine, per say. What do you want?" he snapped, his upper lip threatening a snarl.

"The wards rippled, and the only report that I could get from the local Goblin Security is that 'she returns,'" he said. "I admit, I have the very same words running though my mind, Sire."

"Have you mentioned this to anyone other than Goblins?"

"No, Sire. I thought that I'd try to get hold of you first."

"Small miracles," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes tightly. "Tell no one."

"Yes, Sire. Pray tell, how did you get the walls of the Labyrinth to open like that? I've never seen anything like it."

"I haven't either, and it wasn't me. This is something beyond my current comprehension." And, indeed, he sounded lost.


	30. Chapter 29 Greeting

All standard disclaimers apply. Edited for formatting issues. Damnit.  
Originally Posted 7 August 2011.

* * *

Dean drove the rest of the way to the castle courtyard, his gaze flitting nervously to his Lady and the King, who occupied the back seat of the Jeep. Neither Peter nor Jareth had taken their eyes off of her since she had been remade. She had managed to reacquire her clothing, and was wearing the disguise of Lilith once again, still obviously uncomfortable around Jareth in her own skin. He was speaking to her in low tones, almost directly in her ear, and she nodded occasionally, letting her eyes slide closed for long moments at a time while she gathered herself.

From the bits he was able to catch, he was giving her basic instruction on how to block out most of the Labyrinth's occupants when she chose to, so they wouldn't drive her insane with their constant chattering din.

Once inside the gates, they were ushered out of the Jeep by a tall, gangly-looking goblin in a waistcoat, who seemed to natter on insistently. Dean watched the Goblin King roll his eyes before offering his arm to Sarah as she crawled out from the Jeep's back seat. She looked at him pointedly for a long while before settling her hand gingerly on the subtly-embroidered brocade that comprised Jareth's jacket, making sure she didn't touch his skin.

The goblin, Prattle, led the group through the archway at Jareth's command, the heavy wooden castle doors cast wide open to receive their king and his companions. He cast a wary look behind him at the old Jeep sitting in the courtyard as if it might come after him.

Once everyone was settled into the greeting room, a pleasant, chicken-free room with tall windows overlooking the western corridors of the Labyrinth, he sent for refreshments. "Sire, may I have a word?" he asked finally, wringing spindly hands.

Jareth nodded, glancing over as Sarah found herself engulfed by the huge plush sofa-chair that the strange-looking goblin led her to, and practically pushed her into. Dean and Peter occupied the same cushion on either side of her with room to spare, though they sank in and ended up leaning against her. She was able to project a calm front, but inside, she was a writhing mass of nerves. The boys appeared relaxed for the most part, but she could tell they were on red alert mentally because she was. They had always been exceptionally good at reading her moods.

"Sire," Prattle began, ushering him to the far corner of the room. Jareth appeared briefly annoyed, settling his hands on his hips.

"What is it?"

"Sire, when you failed to attend the Synthesis, representatives from the Fae Councils sought you out."

"Who did they send?" he asked, a look of distaste creeping onto his face.

"The leaders of the first and fifth distinctions, Sire."

"Lady Vega and Airgetlám," he said lowly, cringing as Jareth straightened. "Well, I wasn't expecting Airgetlám, but Vega..." He trailed off, watching the goblin in front of him stiffen, just before he was accosted from behind, long arms thrown around his shoulders and a plush kiss solidly planted on his cheek.

"Jareth, where have you been?" Vega asked, a slight smile on her heart-shaped face as she turned him around and stepped away to arms' length, looking him over.

Sarah was caught aback by the slight woman's appearance. Her blood-red hair was cut in a styled bob, a simple black beaded headdress wrapped around it. A string of pearls looped around her neck, draping down over a black and white polka-dotted sun dress that made her look oddly like a flapper had just stepped out of a comic book in half-tones. Her delicate feet were bare, her nut brown, tanned skin clashing with the peach-coloured marble floor she stood on, but her hands and forearms were covered up to the elbow with matching polka-dotted silk gloves. "You look awful!" she teased, swiping a gloved fingertip under his right eye where a dark circle still remained.

"Iron poisoning will do that to a fae," he replied without inflection. The smile dropped off of Vega's face, eyes that looked as if they had no iris widening in shock.

"What-"

"I'll tell you the story later," he promised.

"Are you going to be all right?"

"So it would seem. I'm still a bit shaky, but even that's starting to pass just being back here. It's amazing what a world of good being back home will do." He turned on Sarah. "Lady Vega of the Fifth Distinction, Greiyfall, Queen of Las Vegas, allow me to introduce my saviour-"

"Lilith," Sarah said quickly, cutting him off with a low bow to the Queen of Las Vegas as she rose off the plush couch, her boys standing with her and mimicking her bow.

"A pleasure," she said with an amused glance at Jareth, whose jaw had clenched as he was cut short.

"These are two of my boys, Dean and Peter."

"Hullo, young gentlemen," she greeted.

"Lady," they replied in tandem, inclining their heads while still flanking Sarah.

"So," the Lady Vega started, turning her inquisitive gaze on Sarah, pinning her with strange white eyes. "Where exactly did you find King Jareth? I heard he went off on some wild goose chase in the middle of a celebratory week," she said with an imperious lilt to her voice, obviously needling Jareth despite her concern. Sarah suppressed a small smile at the other woman's teasing tone, aware as Jareth bristled.

"It's more like he found us. We live in the Kentucky hills, near the West Virginia border. He stumbled onto us during a midnight campfire, and decided to stay a while," Sarah said. Jareth raised an eyebrow at her paraphrasing. She had left out some rather crucial details, and he more than suspected that Vega would pick up on that.

"That's quite a way to have flown, Jareth. How is it that you saved King Jareth?" Sarah glanced at the king, but his face gave nothing away.

"We only helped him out after he'd done the bulk of the saving, actually. It was more of a case of him saving us, getting injured in the process, and then us taking care of him and getting him back home. We ran into a spot of trouble with a local who isn't on good terms with many people. The king put him into place, and he didn't take kindly to that, so he returned with help, and the king was injured with an iron blade." Sarah was keenly aware of the Lady Vega's scrutiny, but held her stance as she ended. "Now that he's back, he assures us that the land's magic will help him back to his peak in record time."

"It will, indeed," Vega confirmed, though a thread of worry for her friend, and suspicion harbored was still evident in her voice. "That maze of his takes good care of him like that. Not as good as a wife might, but well enough, nonetheless." Sarah felt her stomach twist as Vega spoke flippantly about the Labyrinth.

"It's not like that, Vega, and you know it," Jareth retorted, and Sarah heard the notes of an ages-old argument.

"I know it's not the maze proper that cares for you, Jareth, but to hear you say it, it sounds as if the land and the magic look after you like a lover. You say it's a part of you, and while odd, it's also oddly alluring," she said, smiling.

"Vega!" he hissed, his temper flashing. "That's enough."

"Not nearly," she said flippantly. "It's been just you and this place for the longest time. You're the last holdout of the Animus distinctions, Jareth. How long to you think you'll have to figure it out on your own before the Council of Fae Affairs takes matters into their own hands and marries you off to the first available suitor!" Vega's voice had risen and darkened as she spoke, and Sarah felt the vein of power infusing it.

"No one will dictate to me what I'll do. No one," Jareth spat. "The Fae Councils can sod themselves. They're the ones that decided that I was one that had a Prime Animus to begin with and made me into the pariah I am today. If this world were still split, and I Underground with all the other subterranean, then things may have been different. But you know as well as I that the rules have changed."

"Jareth, you hold the last unpaired Animus, and you have no wife," she said as if it explained everything. Perhaps it did, Sarah thought, at least to everyone else in the room.

"And because I have it, my hand will not be forced, Vega. If," he enunciated the word, "If I find the Complement, I am the one who will make the decision regarding how to proceed."

"You know as well as I that when," she enunciated the word, challenging him, "your Complement is located, you'll have no say in the matter. You complete the bond, or you will continue on as you have been in misery and pain," Vega said, annoyed, her white eyes flashing.

Sarah noticed, for the first time, that there was another man in the room as she heard the creak of leather shifting. Peter had glanced over to look at him, but then turned his attention back to the arguing fae in front of him. The other man, fae, obviously, her mind supplied, had his arms crossed and was leaning casually against the door frame that Vega had come in through.

He was dressed in black embroidered leather, run through with strips of cerulean blue silk, made to look darker by the paleness of his skin. His right shoulder was exposed, his upper arm heavily scarred, getting lighter as her eyes travelled down his arm. Sarah was surprised to see that, further down his arm, flesh seemed to be merged with silver showing embedded runes and intricate knots. His entire hand was made from the gleaming metal. His left arm was covered in its entirety by a sheaf of the blue silk, ending in a fitted glove.

Sarah's breath caught when he looked up at her, finally having noticed her stare. His eyes were drowning blue, matching that of the silk that he wore, and his face, paler than the falling snow, was heavily scarred in silver. He nodded at her in greeting, turning his attention back to the argument in front of him.

"As I said," Jareth said, staring Vega down, pointedly not glancing at Sarah despite her knowing he was speaking directly about her. "I will be the one to make the decision if the time comes." The two fae were glaring at one another, daring the other to back down first.

"Dean, Peter," Sarah started softly, not really wanting to break the tenuous quiet that fell over the room, despite the loud glares that Vega and Jareth were trading and the amusement that came in waves off of the pale man in the corner. "Come on. We should be off. Leave the Goblin King to his business."

"Wait!" Jareth called, turning away from the small fuming woman standing near him. "We barely made it here because of the blasted snowstorm, and it's still coming down," Jareth pointed out logically, regaining his bearings after the argument. He felt his body thrum at the thought of the distance Sarah sought to put between them.

"We'll be fine," she assured. "The Jeep has gotten us through worse. And besides, the snow has gotten better. We made it the rest of the way here without too much of a problem," Sarah replied.

"I insist," he said sharply. "It wouldn't be right to send my saviours out into the world without at least a bit of food and rest." For a moment, Sarah nearly lamented stopping Toby from crushing His Nibs the first night he stumbled upon them. Taking her incredulous silence for acquiescence, he called out to his Steward. "Prattle, have DivX set up the suite in the East wing's upper corridors. It's been a long day already. We'll take lunch in the commons." Prattle swept away, chattering something too fast to be understood at a blue goblin in the hallway, who immediately took off.

"DivX...? Wait-suite?" Sarah asked, balking slightly and shaking her head. "No, Goblin King. We're not staying. We'll be fine," she insisted, settling a hand each on the boys' shoulders. "We can stop if we need to." The boys followed suit obediently as she turned to leave, and Jareth felt a spark of panic rising in him.

"Lady Lilith," she heard, and turned her head to look back over her shoulder.

Jareth's eyes caught hers, and she was met with a familiar look that haunted her dreams. There was a hardness present, underlaid with a desperation that had been present when he made his final offer after she'd beaten him. She bristled without meaning to before she realized that he had been trying to plead with her without giving anything away to the others in the room.

Before she could get more than a few steps away, part of her realizing he was about to do something she wouldn't like, Sarah felt Jareth's bare hand touch hers to catch it. She immediately felt his presence in her bones, her labyrinthine awareness recognizing him as home and hers, and a myriad of other unsettlingly familiar emotions. She didn't immediately remember that Jareth's glow would flare up at first contact; apparently, he hadn't either, but if the blinding gold glare emanating from their skin touching didn't do it, the startled gasps of the other two fae in the room reminded them.

Jareth grimaced, and Sarah's eyebrows drew together as she carefully removed her hand from his grasp. Only then did he hear Vega's breath give way in a stunned huff. He had a feeling Airgetlám was smirking. "Please," he spoke, finally. "Stay."

Sarah studied his face for a moment, flitting over the upswept eyebrows, so strangely owlish, the high, regal cheekbones, and the thin draw of his lips, coming to rest on the crystalline blue of his right eye, and the fathomless amber of the other. He waited, watched, imploring through the feathery fall of wispy hair over his eyes.

"For a while," she conceded softly, and heard the boys take a shallow breath. She wasn't sure she cared at all for the way she had just been manipulated, and clenched her jaw.

"King Jareth," Vega asked, breaking the silence. "A moment, please?"

"Let me get my guests to their rooms, and set them up so that they may contact their family, and then I will speak with you, Vega. Please wait for me in my study. Prattle?"

"Yes, Sire?" came the shaky, awed reply from just behind the pale fae at the door.

"Escort the Lady Vega and Airgetlám to the commons," Jareth ordered, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

"Yes, Sire." The goblin turned to Sarah, his mud brown eyes watery. "My Lady," he said, bowing lowly.


	31. Chapter 30 Smoke and Mirrors

All standard disclaimers apply.

Originally Posted 12 Sept 2011.

"You're in deep now, aren't you?" Sarah asked.

"It's fine," he said dismissively, leading Sarah and the boys through the twisting corridors of stone and armor in miniature. Portraits of strange people and beasts lined the walls where tapestries of beautiful rolling hills and mazes didn't already dominate. Everything seemed to lead upward and outward like the petals of an unfurling rose.

"We could have just dropped you off at the door," she said softly as she followed him, trying to shake the feeling of having been dumped into icy waters without land in sight. "There wouldn't have been anyone to see, and then I could be off after Sisk already instead of letting that madman run rampant-"

"Sarah," he said, and she stopped cold at the tone in his voice. It was the voice that she'd always heard in her nightmares, calling out cruelly, taunting as she ran from him. "You most definitely should not have just 'dropped me off,'" he intoned mockingly, a sneer forming. "I'd rather you not go after that Runner alone. If he was able to reduce you to your component parts under just his own steam, then who's to know what he's capable of if he destroyed the rest of his party."

"It's just him, though. If it's just him, he can't have one of the others get the drop on me!" she insisted hotly, a growl building within her.

"No, Sarah," he hissed, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders and pinning her up against the rough-hewn stone wall next to a suit of armor and spines that looked to have been crafted for a very angry dwarf, knocking the growling breath from her before it emerged.

"Don't call me by name," she said, trying to affect a cold tone despite her shaken demeanor. "I'd rather you not accidentally command me. Aside that, I'm pretty sure that even your goblins have managed to add two and two and figure it out. They know what I did and what I am, at least in relation to you and having solved the Labyrinth. Your friends don't strike me as stupid. If they haven't figured it out already, they don't need any help."

"Sarah is your name," he insisted hotly, anger flashing. "And that is what I shall call you, at least out of earshot of my compatriots. For the time being. Also, for the record, now that I know that I can command you as one of my subjects, I will endeavor not to abuse the privilege."

"He already knows what I am at least, Goblin King. My family is in danger."

"Don't you dare go after him alone," he breathed, a sneer curling his upper lip. Twin snarls met his back as Sarah's boys shredded out of their clothing and stood as wolves, teeth bared menacingly and hackles ruffled, daring the King to make a move to hurt her. "Back off!" he barked at them, matching the boys' ferocity before turning his attention back to Sarah, softening his tone purposefully. "I've watched you die twice now." His breath was a whisper over her cheek as he leaned in, ghosting his lips across it, leaving a streak of glittering gold behind before releasing her completely and taking a step away. "A third time may be the end of me."

"I don't intend to go on a suicide mission, Goblin King," she said, shaken, tingling where he touched her. She raised a hand as if to feel the golden glow on her cheek before dropping it back to her side. "And what about your Fae Council? If they know what that glow of yours means, then won't they try to keep me here?"

"I don't see why it matters what others try to make you do. You're determined not to listen to anyone anyway, even if it means your life," he said shortly, then resumed his brisk pace, leaving the three of them to catch up.

"I do listen, Goblin King, but I won't have my decisions made by someone else."

"You're implying that any decision you make about a difficult situation won't always include you tucking tail and running away to save yourself the bother of actually facing up to anything," he said acidly. Sarah bristled.

"Now look here, Your Majesty," she growled, thunder threatening under her breath, her power crackling like static interference on the air. He did not slow, nor turn. She shot out her sands, capturing him easily when they wound around him. Sarah felt his shudder at her touch when she turned him around to face her, gold bleeding into black from the points of contact between them like dawn after a long night.

His lips pulled back into a sneer, intending to spew further vitriol at her. She put her hand gently over his mouth, and he was momentarily blinded by the flare of light coming from both of them.

"I was young. I was stupid, and terrified. I ran from your offer after I had bested your Labyrinth, not because I wanted to twist the knife, but because I didn't understand. I didn't know what you were asking of me at the time. I do now. The next time I ran, I had just died along with my entire family. My entire world had gone up in literal flames. When I came back to life to see fairies flitting around the wreckage that was my family's car, what was I supposed to think? Of bloody course, I ran!" She took a deep, calming breath.

"But I'm not running anymore, Goblin King. This time, I can fight. This time, I will fight. This time, I have something to fight for because I know what can be lost," she hissed, her eyes bleeding to gold before she finally loosened her hold. "Now stop sniping at me. I agreed to stay for a while. Be civil, won't you?"

She uncoiled and set him to rights, gesturing for him to lead on. He took a shuddering breath, and continued on, the glow fading slowly.

Minutes later, Jareth stopped in front of a lush woven tapestry. The scene portrayed was strangely familiar to Sarah as she peered in; a backdrop of dusky mountains were blocked out against a crystal blue sky littered with fluffy white clouds. In the foreground stood a congregation of sandy community buildings surrounded by clusters of trees. Her breath caught despite her intentions to keep mum when she realized that it was a landscape of the college she had attended.

Sarah nearly missed it completely when a light breeze rustled the trees in the foreground of the tapestry, having been distracted by Jareth's jaw clenching at her reaction. He brushed a gloved hand past his face, and the tapestry pulled aside like a curtain revealing a solid wooden door carved with coiled dragons and ivy.

The door opened into a modest but elegant suite of rooms done in dark wooden arches against cream coloured stone and dark brown tile. Against one wall, shelves were built from ceiling to floor, and stocked with books, some of which Sarah recognized from her collection back at the base. The gray mid-afternoon Chicago light streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a veranda facing the lake. Twiggy plants with mere hints of greenery were scattered artfully about, and a fire burned merrily in the hearth on the inside corner of the room in front of a plush dark brown rug.

On the bed was a goblin arranging cream-coloured sheets and a dark brown comforter. Another tossed up pillows. The two of them paused in their actions when the king stepped grandly into the rooms, Sarah and the boys right behind him.

One of the goblins was as brown as a nut, his luminous gray eyes bulging slightly in apparent adoration, locked as they were on Sarah. Over bat-like ears swept down over skinny shoulders, he wore a poorly-woven, hooded tunic, and a cute upturned nose twitched slightly as he bowed, taking one of the pillows with him as he tumbled arse-over-elbows to the floor.

The other goblin scowled down at the first, all teeth and angles and knees and elbows as he finished up the bed quickly.

"Hey King. Hey Lady. I's Skids," the one on the floor greeted with an uneven grin. The other goblin finished with the bed quickly and vanished in a hastily-put-together bow, and a scurry of limbs out the door without a word. "Dat's DivX."

"Hello, Skids," Sarah said with a grin. The boys, still wolf-like, flanked her as she stepped in behind the king. Jareth sighed off to the side of her, leading her to a bureau with a seat in front of a mirror.

"What's this for?"

"It's a mirror, Sarah. Surely you haven't forgotten how to use one?"

"Gee, Mister Goblin King, I seem to have forgotten how this work a simple reflective glass," she said snidely, sitting down.

"Surely your brother would be wondering what's become of you by this point."

"Well, yeah, I did want to contact him, but can't I just use my mobile phone?"

"Your mobile phone will most likely not work here. Not with the barrier around the castle. It blocks most everything."

"Even though it's me-powered?" she asked, pulling the phone out of her pocket. Surely enough, the barrier around the castle had blocked out the phone's signal. "Damn, you're right," she said. He smirked, and she rolled her eyes. "So, how do I do this?" Sarah asked, gesturing at the mirror. "How do I get the right mirror on the other side?"

"I haven't the foggiest. You're the one that made it work before, wishing on mirrors," Jareth replied airily. "It may take a couple of tries."

"I wished for it, I suppose," she admitted uncomfortably.

"Well, try it again."

"I haven't wished for anything since..."

"Now would be the perfect time to try," he suggested. "I swear not to hold any slips of the tongue against you."

Sarah gritted her teeth and ground out after a moment of thought, "I wish this mirror would connect to a mirror at my home so that I may speak to someone currently there."

The glossy surface clouded over in a swirl, washing out and fading their images away. After a moment, the fog seemed to clear.

"What the hell?" came a craggy voice that sounded like it had just woken up. She heard a rustle of sheets and soft footfalls approaching.

"Brother?" she asked tentatively into the milky-coloured surface of the mirror in front of her.

"Lil?" came the reply as the glass cleared and image solidified. The image, however, wasn't that of her little brother. Instead, the mirror reflected a face of pure coal, ominously red eyes blinking blearily, and shoulder-length white hair tousled from sleep. "Lil? Is that you? The voice is almost right, but you look different."

"Jack!" she exclaimed with a smile, ignoring the fact that he was dressed only in a simple pair of gray cotton drawstring pants. Jareth scowled. Of course it would be one of the elves, less than half-dressed. Nemesis, he thought with a mental snarl. "It's me. It worked!" she said excitedly to no one in particular.

"In a matter of speaking," the Goblin King commented sourly, glaring at the elf, cataloguing the reactions from them as they interacted.

"Are you okay? Where are you?" Jack asked, ignoring the king hovering possessively behind Sarah.

"I'm fine, Jack. Got a long story to tell, but I'm okay. We made it to Chicago. I'm actually talking to you from the castle beyond the Goblin City."

"How-?"

"No idea of the specifics of how it's working; I'll figure it out later. Where's Sam?" As soon as she asked, a knock swiftly sounded at the door in Jack's room.

"Yeah?" Jack called out, throwing a glance over his shoulder. Sam stepped in, his eyes locking on the mirror his sister was shown in.

"Right here. Hey, Sister. I was hoping there was a reason that your voice was coming from Jack's bedroom," he teased with an easy smile, swaggering forward, hips first.

"Annoyance," she chastised, ruining the tone with her grin.

"At least it wasn't moaning that I heard." Sarah nearly choked on the Goblin King's burst of magic as it arced from his fingertips, and fell like mist as it billowed over his shoulders. Sarah put a steadying hand on his forearm, feeling the tooled leather beneath her fingertips. He gritted his teeth, staring iron daggers at the elf looking about in mock innocence behind Sam. Toby. Whatever.

"Mind telling me what the hell happened to you?" the sandy blond man asked, his nose crinkling gently in concern. "I've been calling your mobile all morning."

"I reformed from sand last night and promptly died," she said succinctly, her mirth falling away like dead leaves. Jareth felt a chill at her blatant wording. "Came back this morning at dawn and I couldn't even hold a full flesh figure. I drove the rest of the way as half sand."

"The hell, you say?" Toby replied, looking horrified, leaning against the bureau to inspect the mirror she was talking to him from.

"The hell, indeed. Jet and Jack still deal arms?"

"Of course!" came the reply from behind Toby's sandy head.

"We may need you. Harlan Sisk is different. Something's not right. He had someone with him that did a lot of damage. They were able to destroy my sands enough that when I pulled myself back into flesh, there wasn't enough left to do it properly. My death scar opened and I died."

"How are you talking to me, then?"

"We made it to the Labyrinth. When I touched down on Labyrinthine soil, it remade me. We kind of... Well. I am the Labyrinth now, I guess. It's awfully strange to try and explain. As for the mirror, I made a wish."

"Sounds like an adventure," Toby replied, blinking. He knew that she was very careful to never utter wishes aloud. Even before they died, she'd taught him to be cautious with his words, because she knew the power they could hold. Sarah rolled her eyes at her brother.

"Of the best sort, so far," she commented sarcastically. "You're not safe," she said.

"Better here than anywhere else, then," he said. "Where is Sisk?"

"I left him stranded somewhere around Indianapolis. After they attacked me, I killed his entourage, lost him, and when I came back, the corpses had been... eaten. Partially."

"Awesome," he commented flatly. "Cannibal crazies."

"Was it the hearts that were eaten?" Jack asked, elbowing Toby over slightly. Sarah furrowed her brows.

"The chests were torn open," she said, trying to remember. "I think they may have been."

"He's trying to gain their powers," he said. Toby looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "What? My family hasn't always been on the up-and-up, as you well know," he defended, rolling his eyes. Sarah smirked as she saw Jareth scowl out of the corner of her eye.

"Who were they?" Toby asked Sarah with a shake of his head at the elf.

"I think they were Runners; people that wished away someone to the Labyrinth, and spent time Underground trying to retrieve them. Sisk was the Runner in the Labyrinth when the worlds merged, and he never finished, so he lost his sons."

Toby's brown eyes widened, realizing who Sisk was. His wide eyes held a question.

"They know," she answered, unasked. "Maybe not Frankie, but Dean and Peter know."

"The people that ran the Labyrinth, though; Is it all of them? Are they all like this? They can't all still be alive..." he said softly, trailing off.

"From what I gather, if they accepted the challenge to run the Labyrinth and lost, they may not actually remember what they lost." Jareth nodded stiffly, a confirmation. "They gained powers from the exposure to the Underground. If someone just wished someone away, they didn't change."

"But we remember. And Sisk remembers," Toby pointed out. "If he didn't, he wouldn't be after his boys. He lost, but remembered."

"We're the only ones like us, because we beat the Labyrinth. The others still gained something, though, even if the Runners lost their wished-away and their memories," Sarah said. "The Labyrinth reclaimed me when I touched down onto it, and I was put back to the way I was supposed to have been the whole time, I think. I'm the consciousness behind the magic. Jareth was the caretaker-" At this, Jareth sniffed haughtily, offended at being labelled as such. Sarah ignored him. "-until it was solved. The problem is that it felt like I was never supposed to have left."

A tense silence followed, Toby chewing on his lower lip. Sarah saw the muscle in his jaw twitch as he gritted and relaxed a few times in quick succession.

"What now?" he asked finally.

"Same as always, Brother. We protect our own. I'm going to give it a day or two before I head home, I think, or else His Nibs will be on my case," she said with a wry smile and a sly look.

"I beg your pardon! I will not be addressed-"

"He'll be on your case anyway, Sister. Especially now that he knows who we are." Toby peered around Sarah, looking entertained at the sight of the offended king. "Hello again, by the way, Your Majesty," he said with a smile.

Jareth nodded. "Hello again, Sam," he said, emphasizing the false name.

"So, what's it like being a maze?" Toby asked, glancing back at Sarah.

"Amazing."

"No puns," he chided with a smile.

"Twisty?" she offered. Toby chuckled. Frankie, having sneaked into the room after watching Toby immediately vacate his place in the base, leaving his project in the control room hanging as wires, peered up into the glass, his eyes lighting up.

"Dean? Peter?" he called.

"Hey, Frankie-boy," Peter said, human, grinning, naked, and tangled from tussling with his brother on the rug. Dean offered a wave from his position beneath the smaller boy.

Frankie scuttled up to the mirror, leaning up and forward over the dresser to see his brothers. He lost his balance, and went toppling forward. Sarah issued a soft cry as he fell, reaching out to catch him. To her utter astonishment, her fingers swept through the glass as if it wasn't even there, and Frankie fell through, knocking both of them to the floor.

"What the devil-" Jareth muttered, taking a step backward, looking down at a shell-shocked Sarah and a happy, wiggling boy-cum-wolf. "How did you get here?"

"Fell through the mirror," he said as if it was obvious, flashing a grin fully equipped with teeth sharper than they should be, his eyes reflecting mischief. Jareth realized in that moment that Frankie was probably the least domesticated of the three brothers.

"How did that just happen?" Toby asked softly, his eyebrows drawn. Jack swore softly under his breath, glancing up as Jet came into the room to see what the commotion was. Frankie popped up with a grin, looking around, and down again at Sarah.

"That was awesome! Am I really in the Goblin Castle again?"

"Yeah," Dean grinned, ruffling his brother's hair. "Well, this is handy," he commented, glancing back at the mirror.

"What mirror is that on the other end?" Jareth asked, running his gloved fingertips down the edge of the frame as Sarah picked herself up and re-situated.

"That's the room that you stayed in. The mirror is the one that was on the bureau. I rescued it from home. From my parents' house before the merge."

"You took the large panel," he said, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Yeah."

"That mirror in front of you is the one from Toby's room in the same house."

"Is that how they're linking up?"

"I gather it's certainly making things easier."

"Well," she said. "At least when we leave, you'll have an easy way to contact us."

Jareth grimaced as she mentioned leaving.

"Perhaps he can visit," Toby suggested, a wry smile on his face. Sarah shot him a slightly murderous look.

"Thank you for the invitation, Master Toby."

"Heh," he chuckled. "Haven't been called that in a long time."

"I'm glad to see you grew up well, despite your step-sister's once-upon-a-time intentions," he said teasingly. Sarah let it go, having heard the teasing note in his voice.

Toby laughed. "Yeah, she did a good job on me. Most of my awesomeness is naturally acquired, though."

"The bullshit is naturally acquired, too," Sarah griped with a grin.

"I'm going to get back to the command center," Toby said with a slight shake of his head. "How should I get hold of you if I need to?"

"Well, the mirror, while handy, is probably rather bulky to fit in your back pocket, but the phones won't work because Jareth's forcefield-"

"Barrier. Forcefield sounds so Sci-Fi."

"Whatever. It blocks out my signal." Jareth heaved a sigh, and in a delicate flourish, he had produced two crystals. He handed both of them to Sarah.

"They're connected to each other. You can wish on them to activate the connection."

Sarah tilted her head, considering. A moment's concentration later, she had flattened both crystals to the size of a silver dollar, and reached through the mirror, handing one over to Toby.

"See if I offer anything else to you," Jareth huffed, folding his arms. "I should have learned my lesson last time, I suppose."

"Hey, no offense intended, Goblin King. Your idea was excellent. I merely improved it."

"I'll leave you to it," Toby said with a grin. The twins smirked to themselves behind him, and the King scowled.

"Lady," Dean called softly, before Sarah could try to figure out how to close the mirror off. "You're safe here with the king. Sam looks like he needs the help," he suggested airily, glancing up at the Goblin King, his eyes sly and calculating, mirthful behind a thin veil of concern, and Sarah was immediately suspicious. Jareth's attention was still focused on the twins, trying to immolate them with his glare.

"Actually, I'm about to strangle your elves," Toby admitted ruefully.

"Come on, we're not that bad," Jet said, leaning on his brother's shoulder, a wicked grin spreading, splitting the solid midnight of his face like breaking dawn.

"I shall diplomatically refrain from comment," Toby said with a chuckle.

"You're missing September, too," Sarah said softly for her brother alone. Toby's lips pressed into a chagrined line as he nodded.

"Also, right on the money. She and Rose are all the way out in Texas already."

"We'll take care of this," she promised darkly, angry that Harlan Sisk had disrupted her brother's courtship. After his last relationship, he certainly didn't deserve to be hurt again. "All right. Boys, hop on through," she said, pushing her hand through to the wrist and capturing the frame on the other side to hold it open.

The three of them filed through, Frankie leaping through like a frog, landing sprawled out on the other side. Peter followed more somberly, nodding to Sarah as he slipped through the mirror. Dean set a gentle hand on Sarah's shoulder, smiling, his red eyes warm. "You need this," he said, sotto voce, insistent. Sarah pursed her lips, her eyebrows drawn. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. We're only a blood-curdling scream away, after all."

She barked a laugh despite herself, and Dean smiled as he hopped through. The shredded remains of the boys' clothes followed, whipping past her face fast enough to startle. She turned to see Skids' manic grin.

"Have a care, Sister," Toby bid.

"Have your own, Brother. We'll get them." The connection severed as soon as she had the thought, leaving her alone with the Goblin King, staring into a mirror.

"I should leave you to settle in for a bit while I straighten out Airgetl m and Vega. She's probably chomping at the bit already, and I apparently have some explaining to do."

Sarah smiled at the unintentional reference. "Off with you, Lucy. I can handle myself for a bit. Probably just take a nap. It's been a strange day already."

Jareth shot her a raised eyebrow, but made no further comment. "Skids will serve you, should you need anything in the meanwhile. Supper is at sunset."

"I'm not going anywhere," she assured, watching him edge toward the door, never having taken his eyes off of her. "You don't need to be so antsy."

"I'm still having trouble making myself believe it really is you, Sarah."

"Would you have me tell you that your Labyrinth is a piece of cake? Because it really was this time through," she said teasingly.

"Does that mean you're the piece of cake now? You effectively are my Labyrinth now, after all," Jareth chuckled as a blush suffused her pale cheeks.

"Well. At least I know you won't be sending the cleaners after me."

"Of course not. I would be afraid of what would become of them," he tossed over his shoulder, opening the latch on the door to let himself out. "I'll see you in a while," he promised, a smirk twisting his lips wickedly as he closed the door behind him, his eyes dark and sparkling.

Sarah sighed as she sat on the huge bed under the delicately draped gauzy canopy. A night scene of stars and clouds played out overhead. It even had the proper constellations, she realized, leaning back and letting the plush pillows and comforter overtake her.

"Alone at last, Skids," she said as he hopped up next to her with a grin. "What have I gotten myself into?" she asked, and he shrugged skinny shoulders.

The Labyrinth within her mind seemed to chuckle. 


End file.
